Children of Eden
by Lionpawheart
Summary: First Monteriggioni is attacked, Mario is killed, we're forced to flee to Roma with a bullet in Ezio's shoulder, and the next thing I know, I'm part of Roma's liberation, and our recruits are calling me 'Maestra'. It never ends, does it? Sequel to IoE.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N- **Well, here you have the sequel to Irony of Eden. If you aren't bored with the story yet, enjoy, if you have no idea what this is, go read the first part. Go on. I'll wait._

_Hey, a fun fact before we start. Sokolo's name is deprived from the Russian сокол, which means "Falcon". Considering it's the only language aside from English I'm fluent in, I decided I'd utilize it._

_Also, quick note on the name. I put it up to a vote, a poll which scared me when the "Banana Sticks of Awesome" that I put in as a joke was getting more votes than anything else. I even began wondering if it would confuse people too much if I named the story that... But luckily, it all settled. Now I think it's a shame, it would have been such an amazing, original title..._

* * *

Monteriggioni was in a lively mood this time of year, a season which lasted for nearly all twelve months in Tuscany. Occasional rain and the one handful of snowflakes did nothing to discourage the farmers' work, the mercenaries' practice fights, the thieves' gambling, the courtesans' flirting or the assassins' long overdue peace.

Or, sort of.

"One word," I muttered darkly without even turning my head around, "Just one word out of you concerning my safety, and I will send you falling down from this tower."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ezio obediently lied, knowing fully well that I was not kidding, "Can I join you, at least?"

I threw my chin up, and examined his face upside down, mimicking deep thought. My husband was smiling down on me, the scarred corner of his lips pulled into a characteristic smirk of his.

"Where's your armor, _mio caro_?" I lazily asked, "What if there's a Templar attack and you're unprepared?"

"I don't see you wearing any armor," he noted, sitting down beside me on the edge of the tower that overlooked the town. Though our legs dangled precariously over the edge of the parapet, we were in little danger of falling off.

"Armor is heavy," I rolled my eyes, "And pregnant women aren't supposed to be lifting heavy things."

"Pregnant women also aren't supposed to climb towers to people-watch. Or freerun over rooftops at dawn. Or train mercenaries in firing matchlock rifles. Or fix cannons. Or loudly argue with the Master engineer about his sleeping habits that force you up on the walls every day."

"Don't make me hurt you," I childishly stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled.

"But all joking aside, I don't think I will need my armor anymore," Ezio's face suddenly grew serious. He looked almost sad at the prospect, but I knew better. I also didn't share the opinion.

"You may not need yours, but like hell I'm going to be tied up here for long," I muttered, keeping my voice and smile light. "Can you imagine? Waking up in the morning without anyone to hunt down or avoid! I can't live without killing something, and you know that very well!"

"I'm sure those...what's the word...ah, yes, 'therists' would just love you," Ezio grinned.

"Therapists, and I have a feeling the police would like me just a little bit more," I corrected him. "Did you get that horse Pietro was moaning about?"

"You heard that, did you?"

"'Course I did. He was pretty loud, and I thankfully don't need any hearing aid just quite yet. Something I can't say about you..."

"Ouch, _bella_. Do you mean to say I'm old?"

"I said everything I meant to say," I leaned onto the boards of the tower, stretching in the sun like a content cat.

"What are you doing up here, anyway?" he asked after a moment of comfortable silence, "You missed the meeting."

"Well, once Liero stopped yelling at me to get away from his cannons- thanks for finding him, by the by- I decided I didn't want to listen to people shouting at you for not finishing off Rodrigo. I'm strange like that, so I decided to come up here. And now, it's the part where you catch me up on what's happening, as well as tell me why I saw Machiavelli storm out the gates and disappear in the horizon so fast that the dust didn't settle until he was miles away."

"We had...a disagreement," Ezio admitted with slight reluctance. Shrugging, he moved a bit before leaning over and resting his head in my lap. Without thinking, I began running a hand through the comfortable familiarity of his hair as he draped an arm across my legs. "He said that he was going back to Roma to try and salvage the situation."

"Is he now?" I hummed, "And what's happening with Caterina?"

"We have promised her the support of our men to defend Forli. While the domain is small, it holds much strategic value. We can't let it fall into Borgia hands," he mused, looking over the town with curiosity. "This place is quite alive now."

I looked back down, as well. Villagers, merchants and travelers laced the streets, entertained by the courtesans and nomad bards. Even the rooftops were occupied by younger thieves that were learning their trade from the Master Thief of Monteriggioni. The walls were patrolled by a few mercenaries, but most were either on the training grounds or with their families, likely catching the moment before they would go out and join the fight for Romagna.

"Much better than what we first arrived to," I agreed with a smile.

Suddenly, there was a loud screech above us, followed by the sound of huge wings catching the wind, the Golden Eagle swooping over our heads. Its talons swiped the air a little too low for comfort.

"Adel! Keep that bird under control, will you!" I yelled down to the young woman once I got over the initial surprise. She just grinned in return.

"I don't control him. He does as he pleases." She crossed her legs, tapping her foot along with the lively music coming from somewhere down in the village. The commotion beside the cannons got louder for a moment.

Adel's presence alone was a good motivator for training, as each of the men was almost subconsciously trying to impress her. It was at first Mario's joking suggestion when he realized that when she was around, the results of training either plummeted below ground, or rose above the clouds. But then he realized the true value of those words, and began to send her up to the walls to supervise the mercenaries training with the cannons. She didn't really mind, as it was anything for her beloved mentors. But I personally didn't see how she could so easily endure the staring and drooling...

Sokolo made another circle above out heads, and then gracefully swept down to take his rightful perch on the teeth of the wall beside the young assassin. He proudly stuck out his chest, and glared at the mercenaries with calculating warning. However, he pretty quickly grew more and more content with the warm sun and Adel's gentle, affectionate strokes. Soon, he let out a small noise of pleasure, relaxing. One of the younger soldiers looked at the bird with fright, others glancing with envy at knowing that the bird was the only creature that got such attention from the beautiful woman. She kept everyone but the Auditore family at arms length, never getting closer than necessary.

"I don't see why you have to bring him everywhere with you," Ezio teasingly commented, sitting up from my lap, "He can't even carry messages!"

"But he _can _rip a man's throat out in one swoop, so I guess it balances out," she nodded back, looking thoughtful at that.

"And because if it wasn't for Sokolo, she would have to jump into haystacks to avoid her admirers a whole lot more often. Speaking of which, you wouldn't know why the blacksmith's apprentice has been hanging around the villa so much lately?"

"He was probably looking for you to tell you about a new shipment of weapons," she shrugged lazily.

"The shipment isn't for another week. He looked as though he was looking for someone, actually."

"I don't know, nor do I care as to why he feels inclined to waste his time around the villa. Maybe you should ask him."

I just sighed. "You have a very thick skull, my dear. Fine, where hints don't work, there's been another marriage proposal for you."

Her glare turned sour. "So? Throw it out the window, as per usual."

"As you wish," I smiled compliantly, "Just informing you, in case you change your mind."

"Have I ever?"

"Have I?" I raised my eyebrows, glancing at Ezio. He laughed, kissing the side of my head.

"Now, don't compare yourself to Adel. You resisted marriage as though I was the devil, about to drag you to hell."

"That is exactly what I thought."

"But not anymore."

"Sometimes."

"Ouch, my ego, _bella,_it bleeds."

"It has been bleeding almost non-stop for well over a decade now. So let me ask you; when will it die?"

He decided that the question was rhetorical and plainly below him.

Adel, happy that we'd gotten away from the subject of _her _marriage, didn't interfere with our banter. I decided not to press the issue. After all, it really was her choice whether or not to care for the male attention, and I just simply didn't fit into the role of a pushy mother. Something that hopefully wouldn't interfere with my actual child...

I put a hand on my stomach, though the doctor said that I was not likely to start showing for a few more weeks. Time that we could actually spare, now that we were free. We could finally raise the family we sometimes talked about over the decade. This baby was like a sign that life had finally straightened out. That everything would be okay, despite all odds.

God, how foolish it was of me to think that time was on our side for once.

Time was still a funny subject to me. Sometimes, I found myself musing on it, writing it down, even. My chat was not anywhere as profound as Altair's, but at the very least it got my thoughts out of my head.

_Let us remember that life does not always turn out the way we thought it would. But whether the road was __straight or twisted this way and that upon ourselves, __getting us lost, we cannot take back our decisions __nor__ turn back time. Even when, impossibly, you manage to travel back nearly five centuries of it, we still move forward, and only forward. As I have heard so many people say, all is God's will, and it is all within his plan._

_I used to dismiss such musings with skepticism and cynicism. For if our lives were God's will, then he was not the most ideal being to entrust our fates with, and I never saw any reason in following the plan that he set for us. But I have met the Gods, and suddenly, it is clear that those people are not as far from the truth as I believed. Plan or not, it was predicted by someone beyond our comprehension, and used to their advantage. But their plan was different from ours, as are the goals..._

_After long nights of musing and talking, we have set numerous theories, but I suppose we will never know if they are correct._

_Who is __this__ Desmond that the warning was meant for? Why did she __commune__ to him through Ezio? Who, __or rather, what __is she, in essence? She claimed they were not gods, but that they simply came before us, created us...but does that not make them Gods to us, then? And why would they even give a warning, if they are now gone from this world as she claimed? Do they simply want to protect their creation? Or is there something else to their motives that is beyond our understanding? The temples that she has mentioned, __perhaps__ they __may__ save this world, __and__ perhaps they can resurrect them in some way? Or __maybe__ I __think__ too deep into it?_

_So many questions, and no answers. Mario still held it, but I sometimes wish that I could ask it the answer….__despite that__ I have a feeling it would not give it to us. _

_The cryptic message was not meant for us, that much is certain. And with our knowledge, we can do nothing._

_We have more pressing issues that are on an admittedly smaller scale than the fate of the universe. But we are still in considerable danger. I fear that our work is not yet finished. Ezio allowed Rodrigo Borgia to live, and that, in itself, is a guarantee that we can expect trouble soon. Ezio believes that there is nothing to fear for the next little while, but I cannot suppress the feeling that something is about to blow up in our faces._

_There are still days when I wonder about them. My sister. My best friend. The Templar line has survived down to modern times, so we are unlikely to ever vanquish them in our lifetime. Which does not mean we won't be working our behinds off to keep them at bay... But I'm curious about something else. What role will Jake and Eve play in this story...? I will never know, of course, as there are centuries separating me from my family now, and I do not want to go back there. But perhaps, like Altair, I will take just one last look to find out their fates, just before my death, to clear my mind and conscience. But that time would not come for a long time, hopefully. We shall see._

_As__ for my present? __Whatever__ may come, will come. If Templars do come knocking on our doors again-_

"Will you please come back to bed?"

I snapped out of my concentration, and quickly moved the quill away from the parchment as a drop of ink threatened to fall and cover my writing. "It's cold…"

"Sorry," I glanced over my shoulder, "I'll only be a second."

"What are you writing, anyway?" he curiously wondered, lazily stretching on the bed. He was not looking at the paper, but tracing his eyes over my form.

"I'm in a philosophical mood as of late," I smirked. "As you know, that happens rarely, so I'm just getting my thoughts on paper before they completely jumble up and flee out of my head. Now let me finish the sentence... Aha..." I read over my last words, and with a small grin, put the quill back onto the parchment.

_-we will send them back home in pieces. And as Ezio agreed, we cannot afford mercy a second time._

_So Templars, come! Try out your welcome! And please bring enough money with you so we can replace the bloodstained carpets after your visit._

_Eden Auditore, 1499, __Monteriggioni_

"As soon as Leonardo swims up again, I'll send it to him for coding," I left the parchment to dry on the table, and began pulling on my boots right over my bare legs.

"Mmm... is there still no word from him?" Ezio mumbled quietly. I knew he was worried about our friend, his concern growing in the passing months.

"No...we intercepted a few messengers coming from Milan, but aside from Ludovico's troubles with the French, they know nothing," I sighed. "Don't worry your pretty head too much, though," I gave Ezio a smile, which he returned immediately. "You know Leo; he probably just barricaded himself in his workshop and doesn't even realize that time is still moving outside his house."

"You're probably right," my husband nodded. "Where _are _you going?" he only now realized that I was not returning to bed when I put on my father's hidden blade. I never went anywhere without it anymore, even if it was just out for a moment.

"Onto the roof. I need some fresh air."

"Open the window," he shrugged.

I threw him a slightly sour glare, my mood effectively dampened by the innocent suggestion. "Ezio, stop treating me as though I'm made of glass just because a glowing ghost told us I'm pregnant. The doctor said it's far too soon to tell."

"He also said that with your age and activities, a miscarriage is more likely that not."

"I lived through eight years of being completely barren, and then the rest without child. I think we can deal with a miscarriage," I snorted. "It's not like we are in a rush to get a child, _amore. _Not with Templars about to come around for another blow."

"You agree with Machiavelli, then?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. I think leaving Rodrigo alive was an incredibly stupid thing to do," I bluntly stated, "You know that."

"I know you think that," he muttered, "At least wait a moment, and I'll come with you."

"Don't be silly, I don't need supervision_," _I opened the window. "Sleep, I'll come back in a few minutes."

I climbed out the frame, and from there, up onto the very top of the villa. The cold air and the darkness before coming dawn enveloped me, pleasantly cooling me down. I sat by the flag pole, listening to its rhythmic beating in the wind, and stretched my legs out beside me. it Took a few moments to watch the transparent white puffs as I breathed in and out.

When I figured out about the baby, I was happy. More so, ecstatic and excited. But the more I thought about it, the more pointless it seemed to get our hopes up now.

"'My age"," I quietly huffed, rolling my eyes, "As if I can help that."

I leaned back on the heels of my hands, looking up. The view was not very promising today- thick clouds stretched over the sky, and it was hard to tell exactly when the sun would rise. It was likely going to rain later on. Or worse, the village would go up in flames.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am not a pessimist, and I did not believe in ill omens or bad signs like black cats or cracked plates.

But when you realize that a cannon ball is heading straight for you, smashing the roof you were just sitting on, it sort of leaves little room to misinterpretation.

I let out a small cry of surprise, tumbling down onto the main roof. The next shot hit our bedroom wall, tearing it down. I rolled to my feet, praying to the Gods that Ezio wasn't caught in that. I took a glance towards the front of town, and froze there, staring out in shock.

The beautiful village was burning.

Chunks were already missing from the roofs of the houses, the walls shaking and threatening to crumble with each cannon fired. The people streamed through its alleys in panic, trying to make it to the villa. The smell of fire and gunpowder hit my nose so harshly that I winced and crunched my face, resisting the urge to hold my nostrils shut. The scent of blood was more familiar, yet far more alarming. Especially I figured it was likely that of our townspeople…

Ezio jumped out of the hole in the wall, and I was about to ask him what the hell was going on when we were separated by yet another fired cannon ball. We dived off in different directions. I tumbled over my shoulder, now praising gods that I didn't have a sword at the moment, and shakily got back to my feet. Ezio was less fortunate; he slipped off the roof and went tumbling to the ground, my heart nearly stopping at the sight before he barely managed to stop his fall by instinctively reaching out for handhold.

I followed him down to the ground quickly, taking more care in hopping down to the balcony first before I hit the cobblestones of the drive. Right as I did so, the front of the villa caved it at the force of more cannon balls smashing into it.

"What _the hell_ is going on?" I finally voiced my confused thoughts, my eyes watering at the acrid smoke already beginning to tinge the air.

"Ezio! Eden!" Mario appeared in front of us, shoving his way through the panicked crowd, "It's the Borgia!"

"_Che cosa diavolo_?" Ezio growled, "How did they find us this quickly?"

"And how the hell did we not see this?" I hissed.

"They must have approached under the cover of night to the east, and grouped right before dawn. We need to hold them off until all the people are out of the town!" the old mercenary hurried to duck out of the way of more falling debris.

Ezio nodded shortly. "Where are the rest of our people?"

"Caterina is heading her troops around to try and flank them, Adelaide was already up on the walls for morning practice, overseeing the _condotierri _working the western cannons! I will lead a frontal assault, and take the battle to our enemy!"

"Where is the Apple?" Ezio breathed, reaching out and stopping Mario before he bounded off.

"I'm keeping it safe! It cannot be allowed to fall into Borgia hands!"

"Stay safe."

"I will- Eden!"

That moment I had to hastily jump backwards, crashing into the wall of the villa, as another ball dropped between me and the men, smashing the walkway to bits. I shielded my eyes from the shards, coughing for a moment against the flying dust and debris.

"_Cazzo_- Go!" I growled at them. Both headed towards the front of the town, Mario yelling out battle cries to rally our troops as Ezio jumped onto a stray horse at full speed. The animal was well trained, and despite likely being terrified by the sudden noise and flames, he followed the master's directions.

I stared out into town, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down my spine.

This was war...?

It was nothing like one of the gang wars that I sometimes participated in New York. Not the stealthy approach we took when assassinating Templars. Not even the battles that we fought when assaulting Venezia's Arsenal.

There was a wave of crimson-clad soldiers that were already inside the walls, likely those that managed to get in before they shut the gates. The chaos on the streets could very well be described as a bloodbath. Courtesans and thieves were trying to fend off the attackers with their short daggers, but mostly they were all on the defensive. Those that did not immediately fall to the Borgia swords admirably gave their all in slowing their unrelenting advance, directing the civilians behind them to the villa. Meanwhile, the mercenaries did the heavy fighting of our enemy, dying one by one, selling their lives for five or more, and managing to contain them. But for how long? The walls would not hold, the gate itself already crumbling under the force of the cannon fire...

But inside the walls, men were burning alive, trying to salvage anything from their houses. The tailor, a nice, older man that made my wedding dress, lay killed and mutilated in front of his shop. The blacksmith, always eager to show me new shipments of weapons, roared in frenzied anguish and joined in the fighting over his dying apprentice, a boy of merely 13 years or so. Children were being cut down by falling debris and flames, their mothers screaming for them. Women were assaulted, raped and killed right in the middle of the battlefield. Most of the citizens managed to get away, but not all...far from it...

If this was war, then it was far more barbaric than anything I had ever experienced, even in all my years as an assassin.

"Eden! Don't just stand there!" Claudia all but crashed into me, and I realized that I stood frozen for almost a full minute, by some luck blending into the deep shadow that the fires made on the wall.

At her voice I snapped back into reality. With the main commanders gone out of the front lines, the defense of the villa itself and the evacuation fell to me. We had a decade to think these things through. The time to throw up my guts at the horror in front of me, and rage and rant at our miscalculation to Borgia determination would come later, after I led these innocents to safety.

"Grab a weapon, Claudia, we will have to make sure none of these jokers try to follow the civilians," I commanded, and she nodded shortly. Unlike her brother, I never had any doubts in her ability to fight. "Where is Maria?"

"She's already in Mario's study."

"Thank God."

Mario had left some mercenaries behind to work from within the town, a few more finding their way here from where they were forced to retreat down from the walls. We took control of the group without hesitation, holding off the entrances to the villa, allowing only civilians through.

_Claudia has not been wasting her years, _I realized as I watched her disarm one of the enemy, and use his blade to slice his neck open. As I suspected was a bit of an inherited trait, she possessed nearly as much talent, grace an speed as her brother, if undeveloped. He refused to let her live up to her potential, but it did not stop her from trying. The chaos going on around her seemed to have little effect as she spun around and plunged her blade into another Borgia's stomach, kicking him down the stairs. Quickly searching his body, she looted a couple of throwing knives off of him and tucked then into her sash before advancing onto another soldier with his back to her.

An officer of the Borgia army shouted to us to just give up at one point. But all he got in reply were my teeth bared in a cold smirk and one of the daggers I'd picked up from the field making whirling straight into his face. One thing for certain at that moment was that none of us would give up until those we were protecting made their way down into the sanctuary, and from there, away from this destroyed place.

"Claudia!" I shouted to her, and her eyes darted to me as she deflected the blow that she could have missed had I not yelled, "That was the last one, all the villagers are out!"

We all let out a collective breath of relief at that, though our work was far from over.

We got a small break when the numbers of attackers finally dwindled, likely called back to deal with Mario's forces. From the earsplitting crunches that could be heard from the front, the cannons managed to destroy the siege towers that the attackers used to get over the walls. They hadn't breached the walls yet, thankfully, so we took the chance to hastily bandage our wounds and drag away those who fell in battle.

And suddenly, it was quiet. My heart, which had been beating to the drums of war around me, just about stopped again, as well.

"Round up the survivors, and hold in Mario's study! Keep the passage open for now, I'll be right back!" I ordered loudly.

"Where are you going?" Claudia asked as she began helping a thief to his feet, hindered by the slash to this leg.

"To find out what the hell is going on out there," I quickly retorted. Just as I said that, the sounds had returned, and I could hear grindings of machinery and renewed shouting.

"Madonna!" I looked around to the mercenary rushing towards me, "They've breached the walls!"

"_Merda_," I hissed under my breath, noticing the wave of soldiers in red uniforms run around the corner. With one movement, I kicked the very first hero bellow the belt, stabbed down on his neck with my hidden blade and freed the sword from his weakened grip. It was much better than the one I picked off one of pawn infantry, but still nowhere near the level of the weapons that were now buried under debris upstairs. "What's going on at the front?" I asked more loudly.

"We are overrun," the man answered, joining in the defense of the open doors. "None of the Borgia commanders fell back-"

Without listening to the rest of his report, I ducked from under a slashing blade, and made a run for the western walls, in one bound climbing onto the walkway. The towers on this side had not yet collapsed, and I easily cut my way through along of it, mostly trying to find at least one familiar face that was not broken on the ground or detached from the body. And I found her, holding her own with a group of mercenaries.

"Adel!"

"No need to scream, Eden, I can hear you perfectly well," she greeted in a rushed voice, disarming another soldier and immediately decapitating him. Then she seemed to think about something for a second, and the next she threw the ladder away from the wall, ending the stream of attackers. We were left standing amidst corpses of mixed colors. "They destroyed our cannons. And a good chunk of our walls," she panted.

"I noticed. Where are Ezio and Mario?"

"I don't know. Last I saw Ezio, he was up on the southeastern wall," she waved her hand in the direction of the fortifications on the opposite side of town.

"All the people are in the sanctuary, and without the cannons, we cannot afford to wait any longer, so we need to find them and tell them to retreat," I jumped down to the roof of the barracks below, Adel following my lead and throwing away the bloodied weapon. "Wait, I think I see him- what is he doing...?"

"What's wrong now? Or, more so?"

"THEY'VE BREACHED THE GATES!"

My blood ran cold. I froze in the middle of some roof, and turned to face the blown gates, only to see an even worse sight than I was prepared for.

Mario walked inside the walls through the smoke and dust. Alone, and unarmed.

And collasped onto his face, right onto the bloody road.

Revealing the short sword that was lodged in his back.

"MA-" I swiftly clamped a hand over Adel's mouth, preventing her surprised scream from tearing out. Adel tried to wretch herself from me, but I grabbed her arm, and pulled her down. I made sure that Adel snapped back to reality and didn't try to get away from me any more to help her one of her beloved mentors, because I could see archers beginning to line the walls. To get out of from their range, I swiftly dropped down into the alley from where we could see the gates.

"He's going to get shot if her doesn't get down!" I hissed in reference to Ezio, who was still leaping his way through town over the rooftops.

A new voice rang through the town.

"Ezio Auditore! I know you are here!"

Both my and Adel's attention snapped back to the front gates. There were already soldiers with spears lined up around the gates, but making no move further inside the city.

The group of people that entered consisted of only one familiar face - Caterina's. Her breastplate was stained with blood, and her arms were harshly held behind her back by a grim-looking man, whose blade at her throat spoke for itself. Beside him was a fat man in red cardinal robes, and another person in full armor, with a thin mustache, a bored gaze and small, golden crown upon his head.

Leading them, with a gun in his hand, was someone I had never seen before in my entire life. But his rich armor and cloak signaled that he was someone important, the marks of syphilis that others called the "New Disease" visible on his otherwise handsome face. A woman with bleach blond hair stood beside him, leaning onto his shoulder and watching his face closely, as though afraid to miss even a word from his mouth. Despite their attractiveness, they both bore sharp, wolfish features, their lips curled with pride and wretched self-importance.

"Guns?" I leaned forward slightly, trying to see properly see. I blinked, sharpening my sight without summoning Eagle Vision. "Oh, fuck-"

If my memory served me right, what the man held was a wheel-lock pistol, an advanced version of the matchlock that our men had. If he was armed this way, then...

I suddenly realized that the men lining the walls were not archers. The devices in their hands were not even crossbows, but long rifles of construction that I could not see at the distance.

Ezio was in plain sight on the roofs, his white shirt a clear target amidst the wrecked village.

Worse yet, Mario was still alive and under the newcomer's boot. And the New Man was now holding a painfully familiar golden orb in his free hand.

..._things cannot get any fucking worse._

_"Watch."_

He continued to speak, once he made sure that Mario was not going to get up again. "The Pope told me of you and your little band of assassins. And this!" he held the artifact up, looking at it with a manic curiosity. "We have had far too much bloodshed. I feel that a... _purge_ is in order..."

Adel's hands clenched on my arm. "Eden, we have to do something!"

"Excellent notion," I ground out, "Do you have any more bright ideas?"

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. We had no ranged weapons, the nearest gunman I could take one away from too far from us. We would never make it in time to save Mario - or the Apple-

"So consider this an invitation," the man at the gates openly mocked as he cocked his gun, pointing it at Mario's head. "From my family, to yours."

The gunshot rang through Monteriggioni. Mario didn't even let out a noise.

Adel made a choking sound. I closed my eyes for a brief second, trying to get my furious trembling under control. When I opened my eyes again, the group turned around, and walked right back out the doors, but their troops did not retreat. Moreover, gunshots sounded.

"_Cazzo_," was all I could say as I felt the tearing pain somewhere inside that I knew had nothing to do with me. Mario was gone, Ezio perhaps wounded. Or worse, dead-

_...when will this day end?_

"Alright, that is fucking _it_," I snarled, the sounds of my heart roaring in my ears as I blinked, ignoring the tears already falling down my face, "I am going to hunt that bastard and massa-"

_"__**Focus**__, Eden. It's not too late to salvage the situation. Keep a clear head. Don't allow your anger and grieving to get in the way," _Altair barked at me from within the depths of my brain, cutting off my growled threats. Almost surprisingly, his cold instruction helped me calm down, though I had to take a few more moments to start thinking and breathing properly. _"There is nothing you can do to help Mario. Go and find Ezio, steer everyone to the villa, get away from this place. This is not the time to fall to pieces!"_

"You're right," I mumbled quietly, jerking Adel along with me. She showed slight resistance, her eyes still trained on the front gates, but then she followed.

I broke into a run towards where I knew Ezio fell. Around us, the mercenaries gathered at my lead, temporarily establishing me as the only leader still unharmed and able to command anyone. The Borgia men followed us with no less enthusiasm than before, now coming from all sides. I had no time to worry about them, so our own men were a blessing at this point.

"Hold on," I ordered to them once I saw Ezio's body on the ground. Fighting with all my strength to not panic, I dropped down beside him, immediately feeling for breath. To my intense relief, he was alive, and not even in such a bad shape as to die any time soon. The bullets went cleanly through his left shoulder, thankfully missing the heart and lungs, his arm and his leg. I tore a few strips of his shirt, still watching out for any attacks on my person, and quickly tied the circulation away from the wounds. "Someone, help me get him back to the villa! Fall back!"

Trying to move as fast as I could while still taking care not to hurt him further, I lifted his good arm over my shoulder, one of our men caught his other side, and with a small heave, we managed to get him somewhat up right. I glanced at his other side with hesitation, and decided to leave it at an arm around his waist. I could not use my blade, and had to rely on Adel and the mercenaries to get through to the villa.

Somewhere half way, Ezio stirred, quickly regaining consciousness.

"What a mess you got us into," I grumbled to him, as I just couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Me?" Ezio shook his head, likely trying to clear the haze from the blood loss.

"I told you we should have made sure that the Pope couldn't tell anyone anything. And now..."

"Mario...?"

"Dead," I wrinkled my nose, fighting my tears. Adel was doing the same as she watched our backs in our retreat, throwing the occasional knife whenever a soldier threatened to get too close. But judging by her blank expression and watery eyes, she would not soon forget Mario's execution. "Can you walk, or fight?"

"Walk, yes," he proved the point by properly planting his feet onto the ground. "Fight...if I have to."

"Good to hear, because we're not out of the fire yet." I didn't move too far from him, just in case, watching him from the corner of my eye as we continued up the stairs, away from the gates.

"Where are my mother and sister?" Ezio demanded when we neared the wrecked villa. He was nearly shouting into my ear over the roar of flames and soldiers, as well as the cried of the dying.

"Inside, they're holding down the secret passage until we return," I replied, and turned back to make sure no one but corpses were left behind. "Get inside already, wounded husband of mine, I'll follow in just a moment! Adel, help me hold the doors!"

"Ezio! Thank god!" Claudia greeted us with apparent relief, catching Ezio in his stumble and bringing him into the door. I covered their backs as they entered the still standing library.

We stood ground for a short period, but it became obvious that we were just too exhausted and furious to fight properly when the first enemy soldier I tried to kill somehow managed to parry my blade twice, before he kicked me in the stomach, trying to give himself an opening to strike. I gasped, folding in half, and blindly putting out my blade to his strike. One of the last mercenaries beside me came to my rescue, finishing off the man.

"_Signora_, you should get inside, we'll hold the doors," he told me urgently, and I nodded at the bright idea, trying my best to ignore the pain in my stomach. My lungs were beginning to hurt from all the ash, too, not to mention my leg had countless new cuts on them that I did not remember receiving. I could not fight for much longer, I realized, so I half dragged Adel inside with me, where Ezio was waiting at the open door, one hand on the lever that closed it, at the same time as arguing with a thief. I have never seen the man before, and the cloth strap over his eye was completely unfamiliar, but I thought nothing of it, slipping past him and into the concealed corridor.

"Where does the tunnel lead?" the thief asked quickly.

"Below the north wall, out the old mines," Ezio explained, allowing us into the depth of the tunnel with visible relief. He then hit the switch that made the bookcase slide back into place.

But right before it could close completely, the thief squeezed the opening, "I have to go join in the fight!"

Ezio let him go, and as soon as the wall clicked, he manually locked it into the floor and ceiling with its beams. I hurried along with Claudia down the staircase, now wanting nothing more than to get away from the villa. There were still a few people in the Sanctuary, along with Maria. At any other point, I would have marveled at how amazing construction of the place hasn't caved in, despite the siege going above. The seven statues looked over the people with outstretched hands, and some where staring back in awe. I approached Maria beside the very back of the room, where Altair's armor was once housed, and stood slightly away from the rest.

"You look nice," I mumbled quietly, looking up at Altair's statue. It was always enough to think in response, but I still automatically spoke out loud. Something that earned me quite a few strange looks in the past...

"_The sculptor failed to capture the resemblance, but we work with what we have..."_

"Adel, where's Sokolo?" I suddenly asked, realizing that Adel did not have her trademark Golden Eagle perching on her arm. It was strange to ever see her without the bird, as I sometimes got the feeling she loved him more than humans.

She lowered her eyelashes, tears still threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I sent him into to the north edge of the city as soon as we saw the army coming up. But a few cannon balls made it that far, and I don't know..."

I humphed, biting my lip painfully. "Alright, we'll have to regroup once we're away from here. Come on, get inside. Ezio, you too. It seems I am the only assassin here that isn't about to kneel over from blood loss." He threw me a short glare, but his exhaustion must have won over, and he simply followed his sister and mother into tunnel. I stayed to watch the last of the people trickled in.

While I waited for them to pass, I wondered how many we lost in the defense of Monteriggioni. I hadn't seen Paolo beside Claudia, either, so chances were he was either still out there, fighting a lost battle, or already dead. And now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen her son Federico anywhere... Lisa, our former servant, cradled her baby girl as she passed with her husband, openly crying. She looked at me, grabbed my hand in a short gesture, not looking at my eyes, and continued through to the secret entrance. A young courtesan supported her elderly father, and a thief of only about ten hesitantly asked me if I had seen either of his parents.

My heart clenched, and I forced myself to shake my head. "Keep up with everyone. Your family is probably up ahead."

Once everyone was gone, I nodded to myself, clearing my mind and attempting to focus. The sounds of battle still came up from the ceiling above. But now it was mostly replaced by yelled orders that I couldn't make out. No one found the secret door, however, and now it was me alone in the Sanctuary.

I let out a short breath, bidding the villa a farewell, and slid around the statue of Altair.

The corridor was lit by the torches that the people must have lit on their way. I wouldn't have stumbled or tripped even in darkness, but it was still much easier to walk without having to concentrate constantly. I caught up with Ezio, Claudia and Maria quickly enough.

"This must be the _worst_ birthday in the history of time," Claudia ground out, her expression and voice a mixture between grief and fury. No one found anything to reply to her. The tunnels were alternating between narrow corridors that summoned claustrophobia and huge halls with black water somewhere at the bottom of them. The smell was of ancient dust, rot, and a sewage canal. I kept looking up, afraid that the ceiling would collapse on us if we so much as breathed too loudly, but it held.

"What was that?" Ezio stopped suddenly, gesturing for his mother and sister to continue ahead, while we drew our blades.

"Is there any way here aside from the sanctuary?" I asked, now hearing the noise echoing back from where we came from.

"The Auditore crypt, but the entrance is sealed. I guess they found a way through...Eden, get on the other side of the bridge, I have an idea..."

I was about to say argue, but then decided to trust him, and hurried over the bridge to meet the rest of the family. I stopped at the edge, and turned around to watch.

Ezio waited for the soldiers to make their way through the tunnels, tripping and gripping the walls, but moving onwards. Ezio stood, one hand on his wound, the other confidently gripping his sword. He allowed the soldiers to see him, and watched for a moment as they let out battle cries. Once he was sure that the last civilian crossed over the bridge, he broke into a run, over the bridge.

"Ezio!" Claudia couldn't help a small cry as he stumbled in his step, phased by his injuries. But he made it over, and then stopped again, waiting until the soldiers ran onto the bridge. Then he yanked the lever that was embedded into the post of the bridge, letting the ropes fall. The men screamed, and fell down into the water bellow.

"Come on, let's move before they find a way around," he rushed us, and we nodded, continuing on our way.

"Where is Adel?" I suddenly asked, realizing the girl wasn't within eyesight.

"She went up ahead."

We continued walking, with Ezio leading the way. I fell into step with him. We didn't speak for a long time, sometimes stopping to listen to the sounds behind us. The echoes did not die down, but they were not getting any louder, so I guessed we were making good time.

"Where's my baby? Have you seen my child?" a woman clawed at Ezio arm, nearly yelling into his ear. He wasn't sure what to say or how to get rid of her, so I stepped in.

"Madonna, focus on getting the rest of your children through these tunnels," my voice was shockingly cold, but I just didn't have the energy to put up a front. And the tunnels kept going and going... Lord in heaven, I was exhausted.

"What is that?" Claudia suddenly said, raising her head up to the creaking. I automatically did the same, and felt a trickle of fear run down my spine.

"Claudia, Maria, hurry up," I replied to the woman with some panic. The ceiling above us was cracking, and then-

There was earsplitting tumble of rocks, and the next moment dust flooded my vision, pieces of stone flying everywhere. I covered my mouth with my sleeve, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"Ezio!" Claudia screamed from somewhere in the dust cloud. I felt dread fill me up, but then the dust settled, revealing the blocked entrance, and Claudia half sitting a few steps away from it. She must have made a lunge for it at the last second, thank go for those assassin bloodlines...

"Did anything fall on you?" Ezio helped her get up, visibly pale, as well. Though that could have been from the blood loss.

"No-I'm fine-" Claudia checked her own legs, making sure they were still in place, and shakily stood up.

"These tunnels should end soon." Ezio didn't sound very reassuring, but there was no other choice, so we continued on.

Fresh air was a blessing when we finally made it outside of the mines. Most people immediately began trying to cough out what they had breathed in inside the tunnels, at the same time hugging found family members, or on the other hand, breaking down in tears when they realized that they were not around .

"Where is Zio Mario?" Claudia suddenly asked. Her lips were all but bitten cleanly through, her eyes red from tears and dust. Her dress ripped and slashed in places, her hair a mess. I figured I looked little better, except I had considerably more blood and grime on me. "I thought he would meet us out here."

"He's dead," Ezio dropped in a quiet voice. Once he waited out the gasp that tore through the woman's lips, he continued, "Claudia, get Mother and yourself to Firenze. Someone," he nearly shouted, "Get me a horse!"

"What about you?" my sister-in-law looked at him suspiciously.

"I'm going to Roma."

"Alone?" I joined in their conversation. Ezio looked at me with a sour expression.

"Yes. In your condition-"

"Ezio, I'm pregnant, not fucking handicapped!" I cut him off sharply, "But you are wounded and exhausted…and you think I will just let you prance off to enemy territory completely by yourself? You're barely standing on your feet!"

He stared at me for a long moment, and either realized that I was right or that arguing with me was pointless. So he just waved his arm, untying the only horse in sight.

Adel touched my arm. "What about me?"

"I want you to stay for a little while longer- let me finish," I stopped her angry retort. "Find Sokolo, for starters," I continued to quietly instruct her, and she just nodded along.

"Alright," she inclined her head, suddenly embracing me. She let out a dry sob into my shoulder, and her fingers curled on my shirt on the back. I held her just as tightly for a moment before taking a step back, to Ezio's horse. While I was grateful for his assistance as I climbed up behind him, it wasn't hard to notice his grunt of pain, or the way his arm shot as he pulled me up.

"Go, my son, destroy them," Maria suddenly spoke up, putting a hand onto her son's leg. Thankfully, she did not sink back into shock as I was suddenly afraid she would, but she still had trouble maintaining her composure. "But remember," she continued, "what we Assassins fight for."

With only a short nod, he sent our horse into a trot, following the road that lead southeast. I bit my lip as I realized he was still shaking with contained anger.

Without trying to speak, I pressed myself to him closely, and rested my forehead onto his shoulder.

"You have full rights to say 'I told you so' right now," he whispered quietly.

"I don't want to. I didn't want to be right."

"..._va bene_."

A few moments later, I felt him go limp, and the reigns slipped out of his hands. I tightened my hold on him, picking them up.

Roma...we wouldn't be able to make it to Roma. I barely tended to his wounds, and now I suddenly got the thought that one of the bullets might still be embedded in him. _Infection…tetanus…gangrene…amputation, _I thought with rising anxiety. Swallowing down my mounting hysteria at that and the fact that we'd just had our home burned out from beneath us, I took a few deep breathes to calculate our options. I had to stop somewhere and take it out...

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Machiavelli. What a pleasant surprise," I snarled at him, not even making the horse pause as we passed him.

"There is no need for hostility."

I nearly twisted my head off turning it to glare at the man. "No, no, you're right! It's not like our home just got torched and ripped apart, Mario's got his brains blown out, Claudia's family has gone missing, or my husband has passed out from the wounds!" I took a dramatic second, and then finished off, my voice more spiteful than intended. "Oh, now _wait_ a minute, that is _exactly_ what happened! So you'll excuse me if I don't have time for chit chat! I have to get to a doctor-"

"All the villages and town from here to Roma are being watched by the Borgia."

I didn't care. "He's going to die of blood loss, so there is no other choice."

I heard him let out a breath of frustration. "You are not listening. The Borgia not only have posters and heralds preaching, they left large squads of soldiers behind. You will be recognized and killed on sight, and you are in no state to defend yourself."

"Then by all means, enlighten this mere mortal to your glorious solution!"

"You've learned field surgery not long ago, correct?"

"So did every other Assassin. But it's useless, I don't have any tools, or even clean water. I will end up hurting him more."

"I have the needed medical supplies in my bag."

"Why?"

"I had a feeling."

I was too exhausted, both physically and emotionally to care or even properly argue, so I finally dropped the sarcasm, and nodded.

We rode for a little bit more, getting as far away from Monteriggioni as we could. Stopping at a pasture, Niccolo helped me drag Ezio down from the horse and lay him out on the grass. He then pushed his bag towards me, handing me a flagon of clean water.

I sat down beside Ezio, unwrapping the makeshift bandage from his shoulder. I was right. The bullet didn't go cleanly through. The guns did not have the best range, so the shot was too weak compared to the guns of later years. Even worse.

"Help me," I quietly requested, controlling my voice so it wouldn't shake as I looked through the supplies he presented. After the scare in Forli, I polished up on my skills with healing, taking the time to learn field surgery from the Monteriggioni doctor. It was crude, reminding me more of torture than anything. But out here in the middle of nowhere without a proper doctor, it was the best we could hope for. "Hold him down when the screaming starts. I can't afford mistakes."

Machiavelli nodded once, and moved closer, setting his hands on Ezio's chest and readying his grip for the thrashing that was sure to come around. I took a deep, calming breath, and set to work.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- **I actually like Machiavelli, historically and in the game universe, but I'm guessing his attitude would drive most people up the wall.

Hm. The timeline is really messed up in this story, and I wish I could go back and somehow fix it, but that would mean rewriting everything. So I hope no one is too confused- I am aware that my dates do not match up with the passage of time, and I have no excuse. But hey, it's not like I'm making money off of this... Now that would be unfair...

* * *

_Curious situation,_ Adel decided absently, _Eden would even say- idiotic._

The situation was indeed interesting, something that the young woman barely registered at the back of her suddenly numb mind. All around were burnt out ruins of the town where she'd lived since the age of ten. The place where she first took a sword into her hands, the burned out rooftop of the art merchant's shop where she twisted the ankle the first time she tried free running. Where the Auditore raised her, giving her the warmth of a family that her own parents failed to do.

But all the houses and streets were wrecked now. The cheerfulness and animation of the crowds, completely wiped out. The stores empty, looted by the soldiers. The villa a mess. The stones of the roads smothered with blood and bodies that the Borgia didn't waste their time moving. They did take care in burning all the Assassin and Auditore flags and crests, however, and taking anything that was still intact. No familiarity was left in the ghost town...

And in the midst of the deathly silence, Adel crouched beside Mario's body, wondering how to get the blade out of his back, and if she should try to wiggle it out of his spine, or if she'd manage to take it out in one motion.

She felt hysterical laughter and tears bubbling inside of her, bringing her fist to her mouth and quickly biting down on her hand to prevent it. The salty and bitter taste of blood cooled her mind slightly. Emotions were not something she liked dealing with, and Mario's death opened a floodgate of grief worse than she could have ever imagined. But she could not break down. When her own parents died, Eden held her until she fell asleep, quietly singing. She was only a little girl then... she had no one to comfort her now, and she fought against the idea that she needed someone to hold her.

"_Signorina_, there are a few survivors holed up in the houses farthest from the gates," the _condotierro_ informed her, his own voice cracked and quiet. She briefly wondered if he had lost his family in the attack, as well. "There was only one group of the Borgia bastards left, scavenging the remains of the brothel, but..."

He let the sentence hang, but Adel knew that they had completely massacred the enemy without questions. It was shown in the grim satisfaction that hung in the air between the men, something she had seen in Ezio's eyes when they came back from a successful assassination. Eden too, sometimes. Revenge was a cold comfort, its bitter sweetness ebbing into an uncanny satisfaction. But Adel never felt the craving for it...until now.

The sun finally tore through the clouds of smoke and dust, but it gave no hope or warmth to the ruins. Perhaps one day, the villagers would reclaim the walls. But for the moment, they were empty smoking remains of a life that felt like it existed a thousand years ago, though the attack occurred only that morning.

"Get the survivors to the surrounding villages," she raggedly said. However, looking back to Mario's body made it all the more difficult. She found herself purposely shutting her eyes against the grisly sight, a wave of fearful exhaustion tearing at her with little warning. _And so this is what it feels to truly mourn, _she hysterically thought. Covering her eyes with a bloody, scratched hand, she found herself unable to stop its shaking.

Her hair a slimy mess of blood and grime, her skin throbbing and itching, the top layers of her clothing were cut up, nearly ripped to pieces. Good only for fires, they were saturated with blood, her underclothes showing through. The only bright spot on her were her tired, watery blue eyes. Despite that only a few seconds passed, it felt as though she needed hours to find her voice again.

"Wipe out any more soldiers you encounter," she ordered, her voice rising with practiced authority, "Loot everything that is left, scavenge anything you can, and then get yourself away from here."

"We will move the bodies, first," someone spoke, and she didn't argue. Claudia, who was standing beside her quietly up to that point, suddenly opened her mouth. "Let us move Mario's body to the Auditore crypt. And then we will head to Roma."

"Ezio told you to go to Firenze," Adel tiredly muttered, finally grabbing the sword in Mario's back, and pulling it out in one movement. It gave surprisingly easy, but everyone present winced at the way Mario's body jerked with the motion. The momentum nearly made Adel topple, and once she regained her balance, she threw the blade away with all the strength and hatred she had left.

"I don't care. I will not sit by anymore."

Adel didn't respond, helping the mercenary and Mario's beloved niece pick up the body of their former leader.

"I want to avenge his death," the older woman continued speaking as she walked beside them. "All of their deaths. I won't let my brother do it alone this time. Besides, there is nothing left here, or in Firenze for us."

"Nothing left," Adelaide echoed, and no one spoke for the rest of the procession.

* * *

I only moved away from Ezio when it was well over noon. Machiavelli started a small fire to burn the bloody strips of cloth that couldn't even serve as bandages anymore, heating up some food when he finished. I felt completely drained of energy, so I only nodded in thanks when he gave me some bread. Nibbling on it without much appetite, despite feeling as though I was about to starve. I knew I had to keep up my strength for the ride ahead.

Whatever it would decide to throw at us. Likely, more death and destruction, considering life's dark sense of humor.

"We will have to travel by night," Machiavelli mused out loud, "It is best if we stay out of sight of the villages and towns on our way. We should also stay off the road. There are patrols about..."

"Why even bother going through all this trouble?" I muttered, lying back on the grass beside Ezio and ignoring the way my muscles ached from the long ride. That I had to support Ezio's weight for its entirety as he slowly lost consciousness didn't help. For a moment, I perked up my ears to make sure he was still breathing. He was, but it was uneven, frantic and shallow. Expected of his condition, but very unpleasant to listen to. He would develop a fever soon enough, which would make moving him anywhere even harder. Without modern medicine, it would be a gamble as to whether or not he could break his fever and survive. Hopefully, he would quickly pull through, as he had in the past with his other injuries. Then again, he was also no longer a young man…

"As I understand it," I snorted, "You are not happy with him."

"It doesn't mean I wish for his death," Niccolo replied, and I made a noise of thoughtful agreement, seeing his point. "Are you not cold?"

"Why, does it look it?" I smiled with little humor, lifting one leg in the air, and examining the bare skin from all sides. I was still wearing only my long tunic and my boots, the clothes I threw on when I thought I was only leaving the warmth of the bedroom for a few minutes, not running for my life or camping out in some forest. Niccolo didn't pointedly look away from such bold display like he would on any other occasion, and it was easy to tell why. My skin was painted with blood and dirt that'd dried. Though it helped against the freezing wind, it was a sight that would not stir lust in even the most hammered and salacious thugs at the moment. "I'll deal with it…I forgot to ask before, but what are you doing here?"

"I was traveling to Roma when I caught wind of Cesare's change of plans. I turned back, but it appears that I was too late," Niccolo replied in a stiff tone.

"Where could you possibly hear that he decided to come from Forli and attack Monteriggioni? That's hardly something you'd hear from the rumors and gossip of merchants."

He didn't reply, save holding my gaze, his eyes unreadable as ever. I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting up to look at him properly. My body moaned in protest, but I ignored it again. "What, did I miss some sort of spy network amongst the merchants?"

"I will explain everything once we get to Roma."

_"He's lying."_ Altair commented, but I knew that already.

"No you won't," I curled my lip, "You won't tell me a thing. You're stalling, otherwise there is no difference if you tell me now or in Rome."

"You should sleep. I will keep watch," he coldly changed the subject, and I knew that I was right.

"I don't trust you."

"If I wanted you or Ezio dead, I would not have helped you treat him. Even with what you were intending to do, all I would have needed was to leave you alone and watch you get massacred by the first Borgia patrol."

"I'm not quite that harmless, even in my current state" I snapped back, despite that I knew he made absolute, logical sense. I would have been able to take down perhaps one or two before collapsing. It would also be impossible to keep away from the villages, likely resulting in Ezio's death with no means to treat him. Machiavelli's presence was a blessing in it's begrudging way…that still didn't mean I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Professional habits.

"Speaking of wounds, would you like me to stitch that closed?" I glanced at him with confusion, vaguely aware of the flash of pain. I brought a hand up to my face, and realized that I had an open cut from my forehead to my cheek. It seemed rather small in comparison to Mario's death and Ezio's wounds, so I lost track of my own.

"It's fine," I grumbled. "I'll-" Machiavelli already began to move towards me, but I leaned away with almost childish irritation, "Seriously. Keep your hands to yourself if you don't want them ripped off and shoved up to hang with the stick up your ass."

He sighed, sitting back and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you always so difficult?"

"Yes."

"That could get infected and leave scar."

"Oh, no! Another scar on my face! What will I ever do?" I made my voice high pitched. "It doesn't matter, my face as good as repulses most of the sober male population. Not to mention I couldn't care less."

He didn't attempt to assure me of the opposite, preferring not to waste his breath with false sentiments. I was right- with the new cut, I had the total of five scars that crossed my face from both sides. Some luck prevented them from crossing over my nose, eyes or mouth. However, they were still visible on my cheeks. Ezio always joked (eventually with a healthy dose of truth on his part) that my eyes were best feature, and I was far beyond caring for looks. Yet the rest of the world was a bit less tactful and forgiving. Especially to women.

"You are acting like a child."

"I don't care-" I inwardly winced at the whine that crept into my voice, crossing my arms for emphasis, 'I am tired, hungry, filthy, hurt and upset," I nearly snarled. "Forgive me if I don't want to be compliant."

"There is a small river south of here," Machiavelli jerked his head in its direction, "You will be able to wash tomorrow if you'd like."

"One thing at a time?" I actually smiled at that. "Okay, sounds good. But I just don't have the energy to care about anything today, especially some stupid scratch."

"As you wish," he flattened his lips into a thin line, showing he wasn't about to waste his time arguing with me on the pointless subject.

From then on, we sat in silence. We were usually on friendlier terms. Or rather, we rarely spoke of anything outside of business, holding neutral ground. Out of the other assassins I preferred people like La Volpe, who were infinitely more fun to be around. Machiavelli was always more distant, his mind always seeming elsewhere and concentrating on his on mechanizations. Not to mention, he was a solid decade younger than Ezio, almost not of his generation. So I never really bothered chasing his friendship.

After a few moments, I gave up on trying to stay awake, and laid down beside Ezio, hoping to at least keep him warm, even if I was freezing.

Niccolo and I spoke little to each other when he woke me up at sunset. Simply, we hoisted Ezio up into his saddle, after which I climbed up behind him, and we rode in silence along the road. Nighttime proved little challenge, the clear sky and three-quarter moon letting me see everything perfectly. With the horses rested from the night before, there was no point in stopping until the morning.

Ezio's wounds still bled despite my crude attempts at closing them. Once we stopped, about two hours after sunrise, I changed the bandages. When those ran out, I started ripping strips off our tunics. I didn't care about decency, all that mattered was keeping him alive until we could get to Roma. The city was too large for the Borgia to keep track of all the doctors, so we would ideally be able to tend to him properly. But it was a four day ride from Monteriggioni to Roma, so I was growing more and more nervous with each hour.

Over a decade ago, I did not leave Ezio's side, instead carefully nursing and tending to him, despite only meeting him on that fateful morning after his family's execution. So I was well aware of his limits in my current age. Once I got some sleep and collected my thoughts, I decided that there was no point in worrying too much over something I could not change. Besides, I needed a distraction; asking Niccolo where the river he mentioned was, I went to clean myself up.

I tried not to think about how possibly disease-infested the water would likely be in the middle of a forest too much. The river was more or a small stream or a spring, freezing cold, but appearing mostly clear. Despite the temperature, the fact that it washed off the itchy grime and blood off my skin was like a blessing from God. A hot bath would have been much better, but I didn't get to pick and choose. I wasn't very used to such closeness to nature, and frankly, nature didn't really like having me near it, either. But for the moment, I managed to create a temporary treaty with it. So no fish jumped out at me, I didn't slip on any rocks, and the thick bushes more or less provided cover from the wind.

Of course, the knife tickling the skin between my shoulder blades had nothing to do with nature. Just my own damn stupidity.

"Turn around."

"...No." I snapped, continuing to run my fingers through my curtain of hair.

"And why not?"

"Are you blind?" I looked up to the sky, as though asking god why men were so thick sometimes. Sitting in the water, water went to just half way up my thigh, and my long hair covered my back and sides. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but I am not a playful nymph, and I'd really rather be dressed when I'm meeting someone new. A nude body gives people the wrong impression."

I think I surprised the man with that, and he gave out a cough. It was a wonder that he didn't simply take me by the hair and throw me down. Perhaps the sword that lay right beside my hand made him cautious?

"That's the point."

"Oh, I see what you're trying to do!" I exclaimed in the most loud voice I could manage, "But darling, please don't. I have a sharp stick and I'm not afraid to use it. Besides..."

He collapsed on me with a loud groan, almost driving his blade into my back, but I twisted out of the way before he could. Niccolo freed his sword from the man's neck, and was now looking around in alarm. The feel of warm blood trickling down my back was quickly forgotten. It was better than a blade through it, or worse, considering my naked state.

"Thanks," I threw over my shoulder, glancing at the corpse with distaste. Red streaks joined the stream, and were quickly carried off. The dead man was dressed in light, but new silver armor. His doublet and tights, ironically as scarlet as the blood pulsing from his freshly opened mortal wound, were both shot through with black stripes. I shuddered, having seen that livery as they destroyed Monteriggioni. I didn't even need to see the tell-tale shield-of-arms of the prancing bull that would likely be hewn into his breast plate, if I bothered to kick him over to his back.

He was of the Borgia.

"_Cazzo_, I did not expect them to find us so quickly...get dressed!" Machiavelli barked at me.

"_Really,_ I wonder how they found us," I let out a skeptical snort, "And I have nothing to dress into."

The only clothing I had were lying on the grass nearby, completely ruined and beyond any sort of wash or repair. Granted, I could still wear were my boots, but those would begin to rub my bare feet to blood soon.

"Here," Machiavelli threw pants and a tunic at me.

"Why didn't you tell me you had these earlier?" I asked, affronted as I caught them. Damn, I should have figured that he would have spare clothing for traveling...losing my touch...

"You were too busy being a difficult and stubborn child," he snapped, turning away under the pretense of keeping a look out. I didn't reply, knowing he was right, instead quickly getting dressed and tying my hair off into a pony tail. I didn't have time for my usual braid.

"Those bastards have been following us since we came onto the road," he ground out. "I'm surprised they waited for you to separate...wonder where the rest of them are."

"They're sitting in the bushes right now," I waved my hand towards the line of trees while I was wringing my hair out, "And they naively believe that we don't see or hear them."

Machiavelli looked around to the place I motioned towards, "For how long?" he cocked his head to side, appearing thoroughly prepared to deal with whatever Fate decided to throw at us now.

"Don't know, I only tuned in now. They probably wanted to see the show," I shrugged, and continued with biting sarcasm, "Pleasure before business and all that. I would have easily caught on if they tried to sneak up on me all at once, so kudos to them for such amazing instincts."

Either the men were flattered or crushed that their plan failed, but they finally came out of the bushes. But their expressions promised nothing good.

"Surround them," the captain barked at his men, "Come from all sides. Do not underestimate either of them."

I wasn't sure if such measures and tactics were standard, or if they finally realized that even women with sharp objects could prove to be challenging opponents. But they were certainly working with coordination I hadn't seen in common city guards. The latter usually just flew into combat, not caring that their swings were easily countered. Nor did they ever give me the honor of "not being underestimated". In fact, this group moved rather similar to the soldiers we encountered when we infiltrated the Vactican, which strangely seemed a lifetime ago.

I hastily pulled on the last boot, and picked up my blade from the grass. Without warning, I had to parry a hard blow from one of the men. I wrinkled my forehead at his bravery, and kicked him into the stream. Mother nature, which I still had a pact with, helpfully gave him the slippery stones I managed to avoid, and he temporarily exited the fight.

"Are these the only ones?" I asked Machiavelli quietly as we stood closely, mostly parrying and holding ground so we could talk.

"I believe so. The patrols rarely contain more than five or six guards."

"So they haven't sent out a messenger?"

"I don't think they even know who we are. Maybe I can convince them to leave us alone..."

"Put down your arms, and we will not harm you," the captain suddenly cut in, immediately as I missed a hit and was forced to jerk my face away from the incoming slash. It left a cut on my neck, causing me to swear under my breath before very vividly describing to him where he could go with his "mercy", what he could do there, and with whom.

"I really wish you hadn't done that," Machiavelli sighed, realizing that there would be no diplomatic negotiations. I wasn't too sorry about that, though.

"Does it matter? Or is dying angry bad for the soul?"

"No, but that tongue of yours will get you killed one day."

"If I had a copper for ever time someone told me that, I wouldn't have to wash in a stream- ahem, river - and fight off Borgia patrols." I twisted away from one of the enemy blades, kicked him in the stomach, and brought my own sword down onto his neck.

"Will you be quiet already?" Though I couldn't see him, I would bet a year's worth of income that Machiavelli was rolling his eyes, "Watch your back!"

"This is so much more fun with La Volpe and Barto," I grumbled, and then realized that I had missed valuable advice. One of the men did what his predecessor was too afraid to, and grabbed my pony tail, jerking my head back to reveal my throat. The steel slipped over my skin, adding another scar to my already abundant number. I kicked the man between the legs, wrenched his sword out of his hand, and drove it through his chest, effectively pinning him to a tree.

The last guard that tried to make a run for it fell with Niccolo's throwing knife squarely between his shoulder blades.

I dropped the bloodied blade onto the grass before leaning onto the tree that was free of corpses, and clutched my throat.

"It's one thing after another," I ground out, my voice hoarse. "I will kill Ezio when he wakes up... I should have just killed the old man while he wasn't looking..."

"Are you alright?" Machiavelli stepped towards me, noticing the trickle of blood that slipped between my fingers.

"Oh, just wonderful. Like a nymph, dancing in the water and congratulating the flowers with the first day of spring..." I joked feebly. The cut was slightly deeper than I had expected. Just slightly. But I still felt rather satisfied. Blood always soothed my anger, however sick the fact was. Perhaps because it meant that I was still alive enough to bleed? "Maybe the unicorns will come out to hang with the satyrs," I gulped.

"Did you hit you head?" He actually sounded concerned. How sweet.

"Yes, a few times as a child. Ohh, down we go!" I cheerfully muttered as I tried to make a step and suddenly the world decided that it didn't want to stay upright. Niccolo caught me, audibly sighing.

"I suppose it was naive to believe that you would not get injured in some way. Don't lose consciousness, I can't look after two limp bodies."

"Then leave me out for the wolves," I giggled, "I'm sure they'd love me."

"For dinner, perhaps," Machiavelli threw a handful of water in my face. It helped slightly in stopping the world from spinning.

"How gentlemanly of you." Carefully using the tree for support, I stood up, one hand still on my neck. "Bandages...half my kingdom for some bandages," I muttered before remembering that Shakespeare wouldn't be coming around for another fifty years or so. Likely, Machiavelli assumed it just more of my dazed rambling.

"I don't think even a hospital worth of doctors would be able to help you. Come on, let's make sure you husband is unharmed. Further, that is," he replied. Before I could say anything, he grabbed my elbow, and steered my back to the small clearing beside the stream where we left the horses and Ezio. Everything was left intact, including the unconscious man. The horses were peacefully grazing, and Machiavelli's bags looked untouched. I dropped down beside them, and without asking permission, began searching for bandages, shoving a few books and clothes away.

"It is strange that they followed us, but didn't send a message to Cesare. If they didn't know who we were, then what was the point? Perhaps they had different orders, then..."

"Everything is a lot more simple than that," I mumbled.

"How so?"

"Well, what would you do if you were tasked with looking out for suspicious travelers? Then, you see a woman and two men, one of whom looks as though he's dead, suddenly turning off the road for no reason and passing a mile away from the villages despite obviously needing medical care?" I raised my eyebrows. "I think it was just human curiosity and caution. Besides, if these men were from the army, they may not have been able to...ah, relieve urges for some time."

"There is a village east of the road," Machiavelli retorted, "If they had any urges, those would have been taken care of there. And no offense, but you barely even looked like a woman an hour ago."

"The meaning of tact is lost on you, isn't it? But I suppose you're right. I look better now, though, _si?_" I asked as I wrapped my throat with the few bandages we had left.

He looked me over with a serious expression. "Only from _very_ close up."

* * *

We continued to make our way towards Roma without any more adventures, thankfully. It was when we started seeing ruins that Machiavelli suddenly began talking again, as we barely exchanged words since the attack.

"I think we should separate for the time being."

"Excuse me?" I looked around at him. Ezio was once again hoisted in front of me, so steering was slightly difficult. "What do you mean?"

"I will take Ezio to a woman I know in the city. She is a trusted ally, and can provide safe shelter and treatment for him."

"And why can I not stay with him?" I raised my eyebrow. He remained expressionless.

"Her house is rather small. One wounded man, she can hide from eyes, but an unpredictable and insane woman would draw those very same suspicions."

I didn't even think of taking offense, even for show. "No one will see me unless I want to be seen."

"Yes, like by the stream."

"That was not my fault. My sense of smell was completely killed by my own..._perfumes_ at the time, and those men were following us. Not to mention, I was a lot worse for wear and surrounded by unfamiliar nature. But the city is my element-"

"Eden, think for a moment," Machiavelli cut me off. I would have snapped out an insult, but he pushed on before I could even open my mouth. "There is nothing more you can do for him. If that patrol really did send a messenger, then it is dangerous for you to stay together; he requires a proper doctor and a safe place to rest, something that you cannot supply at the moment. It will be easier for all of us if you do not argue with me on this."

"I don't trust you," I repeated myself.

I lied, knowing perfectly well that if Machiavelli was less than trustworthy, then my throat would be cleanly cut through while I slept. It would've been all too easy, with me lulled into a sense of security with Ezio's body by my side and no expectation of danger. Not to mention Eagle Vision flawlessly showed me only clean, bright blue. But no matter the facts, I still felt extremely uneasy in the prospect of being separated from Ezio. The unflattering insight I got into his mind when reading his later book, "The Prince" back in school in my own time didn't win him any points either. Then again, not once did a history book mention that he was an assassin, so I suppose that was something that could be overlooked.

"Not many people do," he did not seem to take offense, but I saw his eyes narrow slightly, "Still, that is no reason for you to act foolish now."

I didn't reply for a long minute, and then sighed. "You're right. There is not point in being stubborn. But where would you have me go?"

"There is a place- a warehouse on _Isola Tiberina_ that an ally has lent us. It is slightly...unfurnished, but it is safe. And you need safety right now, until to gain your footing in the city."

"Why can't we bring Ezio there, then?"

"There is no doctor or apothecary near the warehouse. Actually, not many stores are open in the city. Most either went out of business, or the owners were chased away by the Borgia."

"Right. And does this decision have anything to do with you not wanting him to know that you helped us get here?" I smirked.

"That, as well," he disarmed. "How did you know?"

"The male ego is very predictable. I won't lie to him."

"You won't have to. Simply don't say anything."

"Don't you think he'll find it a little strange that I did not stay at his side like a wife and partner should? Come now, Niccolo, I'm tearing holes in your plan..."

"You can say that you left him at the house and trailed back to make sure that you were not followed. Or that your were making arrangements in the city. Eden, this is not your first day on the job, you should know that sometimes it is more convenient and useful to lie. Or even better, omit all together."

"I see no reason for lying," I stubbornly ground out.

He pinched the bridge of his nose again, and his reply was slightly heavier "I saved your life twice, did I not? The least you can do in return is follow directions now."

I snapped my head to him, and was momentarily rendered speechless. He was staring up ahead, but past the city that was already in sight.

"You really are a politician," I finally breathed out, stunned. "'Use what you can,' is that how we're playing now?"

"You are the only one who treats this situation like a game," he coldly responded. "But if you prefer to see it in such childish terms," he nearly sneered, "Roma is a 'playground' you are not familiar with. We have almost no allies, so it is _imperative _that we be as discrete as possible. Even a momentary lapse in disguise could alert the enemy, a mistake we cannot afford to make with Cesare. Not now, while Ezio is wounded and you are new to the city, with only a cheap blade, a concealed weapon, and _my_ clothes to your name."

"You forget the horse," I flatly replied. I could muster up no other emotion as I took a hand off Ezio's side to pat the mare under us on the back. Considering my experience with horses so far, I was absolutely convinced that they had the same variety of personalities as humans. And this horse of uncertain breed and white markings was strong and enduring, if a bit temperamental. It managed to carry two riders for hours on end without slowing. But whenever I came at it with a saddle, it stared at me with the look that plainly said "_If you're the devil, I will not go to hell without a fight."_ Though we got along. Somewhat. "And I hope you don't expect me to return these clothes to you."

"Consider them a gift," he said stonily.

"I'll pay you back, don't worry."

"May I inquire as to how?"

"Claudia kept various emergency bank accounts that she made sure that all Auditori knew the numbers of. I doubt there are any Medici banks accessible in this part of the city, but there is a bit of money in the Chigi-"

"Absolutely not. Chigi is the Pope's banker, he no doubt keeps an eye on those accounts."

"Claudia isn't that stupid, Niccolo," I grit. "She put them under a different name, separate from Ezio's account. She always kept their florins at a low amount, no more than a mildly successful merchant or _condotierro_. No one will suspect anything. Besides, whoever said I can't earn money the old fashioned way?"

"Have you ever worked a proper job?" He skeptically asked.

I bit my lip. "Er….not officially?" Selling drugs, stealing money, killing for profit...none of those classified as a 'proper' job. "But I do know carpentry and engineering. Considering the state of houses here..."

"The people hardly have anything to pay, or they would have gotten repairs long ago."

"You, my friend, are a pessimist."

"I am a realist, Eden, preferring to think in broader terms. So believe me when I say, that unless you're willing to do free labor, no one will hire you in the districts where you will not be recognized or laughed at."

"Fine, then. I have not forgotten my thieving skills, either. If it comes to that, I'll head to the rich district and cut a few purses, or break into someone's house. Look, just don't worry about me, I will survive in the city just fine."

"I am not worried about you in the slightest. It is simply easier for all of us if you do not get caught."

"Yes...it is..." I sighed. "Alright, I'm convinced. Where is_ Isola Tiberina_, exactly?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- As some of you may have guessed already, this story will be a bit different from the original- it is no longer romance based. I am writing this to my heart's content more than anything. There will be side stories and the like, but as far as Eden goes... well, she is a solved characters. Now it's everyone else's turn. I'm only saying this to warn everyone now- I've been getting a little sick of romance lately, so this will be a bit more serious. Unless you like my philosophical musings (a.k.a boring and shallow rants), secondary character development and my attempts at having an new plot, there really isn't much else I can offer now.**

* * *

Roma was not any different from the last time I was here. _Mm, was it really only a few weeks ago?_ The only thing missing was the pouring rain that obscured our vision back then. This time, the city was bathed in the evening light, life boiling along. But it was definitely the same place. Yet it felt as though I was meeting the city for the first time while I rode with Machiavelli towards Tiber Island, especially without Ezio riding with us.

The streets were far worse than even the most vandalized and horrific corners of New York. Beggars made camps where they could find enough space, tugging at passing citizens in groups of at least three. Thankfully, I didn't get as much attention, as the poor expertly evaluated my clothing, crap weapon, and the lack of a coin purse or even a belt. Still, the persistence with which they threw themselves at Niccolo's horse soon rolled into irritating and their speeches soon made me want to hand them all the money that my companion had. If only so they would leave us alone.

It was sorry sight. I couldn't help quickly wiping at eyes for a moment with the back of my hand. It must have been the dust in the air… well, there was no lack of it, so it was as good excuse as any. I have seen poverty before, and there were times when I felt I was living in it. But the sense of injustice that I got from watching those rich peacocks parade in their thousand-gold-coin outfits and jewels while people out here lived off roadkill almost made me choke up.

The buildings were inhabited, but demonstratively bolted and boarded up, as to ward off any soldiers. Yet I could smell fires and human sweat from behind the doors. I came to the conclusion that the people had nowhere else to go, and even the ruins provided some shelter. Feral dogs were fighting over a pigeon that stupidly landed on the streets, bony cats hissed and jumped at every noise, and rats the size of Bartolomeo's fist were openly walking the streets.

"Roma is definitely not the center of the world," I muttered quietly, allowing the hood of the cloak that Niccolo forced me to wear before entering the city to drop lower than my eye level. "This place is rather pathetic."

"It has been this way for some time, and the Borgia and the French are only making things worse. The city guards have lost all sympathy and humanity; they take anything they can, and no one dares stand up to them. Revolutionaries are prosecuted faster than the plague victims. Stores and merchant stands are taken away from the citizens, houses are destroyed and burn frequently, no matter who is still inside. There are only a handful of shops open in the city, and you may have to venture into the rich streets to find clothing and weapons."

"The French are here as well. Wonderful," I breathed. I really wished I didn't, the smell was horrible... "Simply marvelous. Is there anything in this damned city that is on our side?"

Niccolo actually hesitated in answering. "I have a few contacts and spies around the city, but not enough to keep eyes on everything. The mercenaries are our allies, though they are scattered, or caught up in the war. There are a few girls in the Rosa in Fiore, a brothel to the west, but I do not trust them or the Madam. The thieves are avoiding us, though I am uncertain as to why."

"You let me worry about the underground," I smirked, "We'll set those girls straight. I speak the same language as the thieves, though I might have to brush up on the dialect. And if I fail, Ezio will figure it out," I suddenly sighed, and turned around to look back. The sight provided nothing aside from an old drunk that crawled across the street. "He really picked a fine time to get injured...things would be much easier with him."

Machiavelli humphed, and for a second I imagined hurt in his voice. "You put far too much faith in him."

"I have to, in this wretched world," I smiled without humor. "But you're right, it's not a good thing to constantly rely on others. I have no intention of waiting around for him to get on his feet, as there is too much work to be done."

"What is this? Are you actually agreeing with me without putting up a fight?" Niccolo turned to me with raised eyebrows.

"And what is this? Our resident stick in the mud making a joke?" I evenly replied, matching his tone.

"I am _not_ a stick in the mud."

"No, no, you just happened to be born without a sense of humor. Forgive my mistake," I snorted. "You have been nothing but a depressing pessi- I mean, a _realist_. Any other person would have at the very least given me a hug for all that's happened over the last few days."

"I was unaware that you were still a little girl in need of comfort," he parried, his voice rather obvious in the fact that he could not believe that he was making conversation with a hopeless idiot like me. "Even at that time, you did not seem anywhere as-"

"Tread carefully," I let out an irritated growl, "Considering you are more than a decade younger than me, you are not in a position to tell me how I should act or feel."

"Am I not? Clearly, your own judgment is clouded right now. You can barely see past your own grief."

"Machiavelli, you know little of my grief," I grimaced, closing my eyes momentarily and surprised that I didn't snatch out and attempt to yank him from off his horse. "So believe me when I say that the very fact that I haven't stormed through Roma to annihilate il Vaticano and brutally murder as many people as possible to get to the bastard that destroyed Monteriggioni is surprising. I know that years ago I wouldn't have thought twice about it." _It's different this time. _I mentally added to myself, as if trying to pus that persistent violent part of my brain into obedience. _I have others to live for now. I will not fall apart again.  
_

"So why are you thinking about it now?"

I frowned, suddenly unsure if I should feed his ego with the truth. Then I just shrugged. "Because you're here to tell me why that is a bad idea. And probably restrain me if I tried to do anything rash."

I didn't breathe a word of Altair, and his contribution to my clear head. I never said anything to anyone about him, not even Ezio, though he could tell when I was keeping something to myself. If anything, it was thanks to the long-deceased assassin that I was thinking clearly now. I was thankful for it, however tempting it was to take the Vatican apart stone by god-damned stone.

"Well, then, perhaps you will listen to me for a little bit longer."

"I'm all ears. Is this it?" I skeptically tilted my head to the side as I pulled on the reigns, and raised my hood up to get a clear view.

Tiber Island was, by all standards, an island. It stood independent in the middle of the Tiber River, connected to the rest of the city and land by two man-made bridges. The tiny district was in just about the same sad shape as the rest of Roma however, so I was not very impressed. Then again, there was the strategic advantage those bridges could give…

"It's a bit obvious," I looked at Niccolo, "Are you sure it is safe?"

"Yes, I am certain. I know it is difficult, but have a little bit of trust, _per favore._" I wasn't sure if he was making another questionable joke, but I just rolled my shoulders in response.

"So, where-"

"Be quiet and follow me. And pull your hood down."

I clenched my teeth together, suddenly tempted to push him off his horse again. Hitting the ground would surely be a very educational experience for him, good for his personality and my frustration. I resisted, however, and sent my mare after him with a jab of my heels. "What is with this secrecy? It's not like anyone is going to recognize me."

"You are not giving the Borgia their credit," he snapped in return. "Take a look."

I followed his gesture with my eyes, and rode closer to the poster on the wall with curiosity. "Wow. I have to say, I didn't expect them to-"

"Your face is easily recognized, you have many distinguishable marks. Your exotic looks for one, your scars for another. They are not underestimating you in Roma, Eden. You would do well to remember that, as you can no longer use it to your advantage. You had a good cover, but now you are a very wanted criminal that they are offering good money for."

"I can see that," I smiled with disappointment. I did not look too exotic, actually. Just much more pale than the native women of Italy, and with a slightly unusual cut of the eyes. But my scars were dead giveaways, and much harder to hide. What a shame... "Only ten thousand ducats on my head though? I would have thought I offended them a little more than that," I lamely continued, my situation settling on me even more. "Ezio has at least fifty on his. I'm offended."

"Don't be. In the eyes of the Borgia, Ezio has perished, but you could still be a threat. Even ten thousand is a hundred times more than any of these people will be seeing in their lifetime."

"Yes, but you would think they wouldn't try to save a few more gold coins for my head if they truly aren't underestimating me."

He didn't reply, and his silence spoke volumes about what he thought on the account of my cockiness. I already noticed that he preferred not to discuss my childish behavior, likely leaving that to Ezio. Funny how despite the age difference, he was still more mature than me.

Machiavelli led me through more gloomy streets, where people barely even responded. Walking with their heads hung low, their steps uncertain, their behavior bordered on paranoia. Not that I could blame them. We passed a blacksmith shop that was tightly boarded, the filthy sheet covering the crooked sign sliding off to one end. The bank was in a similar state, and I could assume that the doctor, tailor and other stores were the same. The only building that had any sort of life in it was an inn in the very heart of the island. Niccolo, however, led me past it, into its uncovered stables. I followed his example, and got off my horse. He slipped the bored looking boy a florin, and he took the reigns of both horses.

Niccolo waved for me to follow him once more, and we crossed the street to the large building that I somehow failed to notice earlier. A few beggars made their home on the stairs leading to the doors, but with the way they nodded to Machiavelli, I guessed that they were not an issue.

The inside walls welcomed with a grayish pink hue, and red Assassin banners that hung overhead. I looked around skeptically, and was left unsatisfied. It was almost completely unfurnished, aside from a few chairs and an empty desk in the corner, along with deserted bookshelves. It was cold underground, though I could hear a fire somewhere inside. Still, the entire place just seemed uninhabited and strange.

_You've had to sleep in worse places, darling. Heh, got too used to the rich living..._I couldn't help it as my heart clenched for what seemed the hundredth time at loosing Monteriggioni. Outside of my parents' apartment back in New York before my father died, the stronghold was gladly my second home. And not just because it provided a roof over my head. Any place could do that. It was the people, the familiar smells and sounds, being constantly surrounded by allies, by the people I considered family even before I married Ezio.

Now, it was destroyed.

"There are beds upstairs," Niccolo hurried to assure me, noticing my slightly sour expression. "And you can eat at the inn across the street. I suppose you can rent a room there, too, if you'd-"

"I-" I chewed on my lip, and then smiled warily, "No, no, this is good. It needs a bit of furnishing, but I guess I can see to that once I got my thoughts straightened out."

"Ser Machiavelli!" My head snapped up at the unexpected and unfamiliar voice.

The man was fully armored, walking calmly towards us, and without screams of, "What the hell are you doing in my house," so I suspected that he expected us to show up. His dark hair was cut short and efficiently, in a military style, and he had a pleasant face, showing nobility in his stance and gaze. I was a little surprised to find someone like that in a place like this, but perhaps Niccolo told him that we would be arriving tonight. Or maybe he was just looking after the place.

"This is Fabio Orsini," Niccolo introduced, turning slightly towards me. "He kindly rented this place out to us."

I gave a slight nod, relaxing. The man walked a few more steps towards us, and looked at me, though thankfully not in the either utterly confused or mildly disgusted way most noblemen were apt to do. "And who might you be...?"

"Eden Auditore," I beat Machiavelli, giving a short nod.

"Ah, yes, your name slipped into the conversations a few times," he took my hand with a bit of a flourish, brushing his lips over my knuckles in a truly knightly fashion. I wrinkled my forehead slightly, but waited. I still wasn't too fond of the gesture, but it was bearable. "It is a pleasure."

"Likewise. Where have you heard of me, exactly?"

"My cousin, Bartolomeo. He mentioned you and your husband quite a bit."

I grinned involuntarily. "Of course he did. Did he also tell you how I beat his score out on the battlefield in Venice?"

"He forgot to mention that part," Fabio laughed. It was easy, friendly and similar to his cousin's, though without the loudness of your average foghorn. "As I understand you will be living here now?"

I hesitated in answering that. "For the time being, I suppose so."

He noticed my pause, but misunderstood it. "I realize this place is not much to look at, and the furniture is scarce. But there are beds and fireplaces, so you should at the very least be warm and safe."

"That is more than I can ask for already," I inclined my head with a polite smile. "_Grazie_ for your support."

"It is the least I can do," he fleetingly grinned "Sadly, I am currently forced into service with the Borgia, but I hope that with your aid, we will carry our own banners again. Now, Niccolo, do you have a moment, or are you busy with-"

"We can talk," Machiavelli nodded. "Eden, make yourself comfortable. Just please, don't leave Tiber Island tonight. Even if you aren't recognized, there is trouble on every corner for even an unknown civilian."

"Sure thing," I shrugged. I wasn't particularly inclined to acquaint myself with the Borgia guards today, either. Nor did I want to listen to the two men talk.

"The stairs up are that way," Niccolo gestured to the hallway across from the front door, "Through the door. There are only two beds in this hideout, just pick whichever tugs your fancy."

I nodded, and went off in that direction. The door was in sight immediately, but before I entered, I looked to my right with curiosity. The corridor turned and came to a dead end, and some sort of tall structure that had a grate facing me. I blinked with surprise, coming closer. There were steps leading down behind the grate, into darkness. I decided to ask Niccolo later, and came back to the door, heading through it and up the stairs.

There were about four floors in the hideout, including the basement. Each was smaller than the previous, and beyond that, there was the entrance to the roof.

Hm.

I sat down in the middle of the roof, overlooking the city. From up here, I could see most of it, including the shadows of archers walking along the rooftops, and the trickling people scurrying along the streets bellow. I could see the countryside to the east, and the Castello Sant'Angelo, along with the St. Peter's Basilica to the northwest. The Pantheon stood roughly in the middle of the Centro district. The part of the city to the south, however, lacked any big landmarks, looking as though some tornado had gone through and no one ever got around to rebuilding the houses.

Now, to actually do some work.

I cleared my head, relaxing as much as possible, despite that it was a bit hard in the freezing wind.

_"Meditating, are we?"_

_Scouting. Help me out, my range doesn't cover all of the island._

_"As you wish."_

So, what do we have?

There were no Borgia guards on the island, to my slight surprise, aside from those that were finishing their shifts on either side of the city and were going home. Most occupants were citizens without any idea of Assassins or Templars, only of the oppression that came from their Pope. There were a few good flickers of hope, as well as some negative, potential traitors. But it was all too meager, unworkable. The only solid allies in my range were Niccolo and Fabio, downstairs.

I opened my eyes. "Think it's going to fly?"

_"I am not certain. The citizens will need a lot of motivation if you are to gain their support."_

"They are in despair," I chewed my lip. "Since a bounty on our heads is so large, they will be eager to jump at the chance to gain some money. We cannot trust them. I think we will have to pull this one off on our own."

_"Are you thinking of an assassination?"_

"Not thinking. Already planning. That was Ezio's intent when he said we were going to Roma. This Cesare, he must die. I don't know who he is, or why he commands such power, but it is clear that he can't continue breathing. I don't know what Ezio might be thinking, but I will get a head start while he is out."

_"A head start...? You mean, gather information?"_

"Of course. Niccolo is right, we are in the middle of enemy territory. We can't rely on the people, we don't have allies. The least I can do is become familiar with the city."

_"That is wise in you position. But what about your child?"_

"Child-? Oh," I looked down to my stomach. "Well, if I didn't miscarry yet because of all excitement-" I froze on that, unsure how to continue. "...I don't know."

_"Sister, you have to make a choice now, then. To quote your memory, this is between your family and your career."_

"Never thought I'd be making a decision like that, considering Ezio's willingness to comply with my terms of freedom in our marriage. Altair, what do you think?"

He was silent for a long moment. _"This is not the right time. In your situation, every assassin is needed. If you continue with this pregnancy, then you will not be able to participate for a long time."_

I slumped. "So. I guess my sign of a good future is nothing but another unfortunate complication."

_"I'm afraid so."_

"It is very ironic that I'm even discussing this with you now, considering ten years ago I would have never let my chance slip away," I smiled bitterly. He didn't reply, but his silence was telling. I gave a small nod to myself.

And suddenly, I felt a flash of memory, as though trapped within another of his thoughts. But this one was not harsh or dismissive. It was warm, comforting, yet strong and resilient. A woman's face…her smirk…the fire in her icy blue eyes… The stare that briefly reminded me of what I saw in Rosa, Caterina, Adelaide, and even in my own reflection. I knew her, I realized. She was so similar to the one Altair drew in the codex...

_Maria…?_

Before I could fully unravel it, it was slipped away, like sand through my fingers, quickly replaced with his usual voice. _"Go sleep, my dear. It'll be easier to think once you have rested and sorted your thoughts out."_

I followed his good advice with a heavy heart, but a foreign, cold determination. Altair was right... _of course he was right..._ But it was not a choice I could make lightly, no matter how logical he sounded, and how much I tried to convince myself.

I couldn't fall asleep for a long time, the empty space beside me awfully haunting, and my thoughts circling and bouncing around my head. I woke up from my light sleep at any noise that the mice made, the rare whistles of the wind, and then, a door closing somewhere inside the warehouse. Soon, though, I finally managed to drift off, deeply and without dreams.

In the morning, I woke up a good few hours after dawn, though it was still completely dark in the room. After a few moments of confusion, I realized it was due to the boards placed over the windows. I spent a few minutes looking for candles, didn't find any, and silently vowed to get the windows cleared later on.

To my surprise, there was a pile of clothing at the foot of the bed that smelt briefly of ink and parchment, along with steel and dust, a scent that belonged to Niccolo. I raised my eyebrows, lifting the clothing up with curiosity before realizing that they were white assassin robes. Before, I wore a black cloak for easier blending, but considering the walls of Roma shone almost blindingly in sunlight, I decided white would not be a problem. Though if the guards were still on alert for beaked cowls and white robes, it would be a serious breach of my disguise.

It seemed that Machiavelli was thinking along the same lines, because under the robes was a simple red civilian outfit, made from richer materials, yet not too much to draw the eye. I would fit in with the crowds with ease.

I scratched the back of my head with confusion, wondering when on earth he managed to get clothes for me. Better yet, _why_, considering I told him I'd survive on my own, and would not accept any more charity from him? I meant it too. After all, what was a day in male clothing until I got the money to buy myself something more fitting? But he didn't seem to take me too seriously.

I got dressed quickly, deciding that I was not quite childish enough to proudly return the clothes back to him and not speak to him for the rest of the year. The clothing fit on the account of the bodice that held the loose silk tunic in place, so I was reasonably happy that I would be able to openly walk the streets without drawing attention. The only thing that I did not put on was the skirt, thinking that no one would see my pants under the cloak anyway, so it didn't matter.

I quickly brushed and braided my hair (He left a comb, too. Now I would _really_ like to know where the hell he learned of female tendencies and habits...definitely not from the Animal Planet...), and with reinforced confidence, walked downstairs to the exit. Machiavelli was not in the hideout now, so I left the promising conversation for later, and walked out onto the street.

I wasn't really sure as to where to go. As Niccolo said earlier, all the stores within range were shut down. After breaking into the abandoned blacksmith's shop, I was left disappointed: whatever was left was long since looted by thieves and beggars. The only stores that were open were likely somewhere in the richer part of the city.

The richer part of the city, as I figured out the night before up on the roof, was in the north. The Vatican branched off in the northwestern corner. That place was bound to have at least some loot, though the risk was enormous. But I had little choice.

I made my way through the streets, blending in with the stream of people and carefully avoiding streets were I could see guards patrolling. The captains were very paranoid, from what I could see, and I even paused in the shadow of an alley to watch with amusement as he poked his spear through the haystack. None of his men rolled their eyes, though, so I guessed they had managed to catch at least one thief in hiding.

I knew that I'd entered the richer part of the city when the buildings cleaned up visibly, and the dress of those wandering the street became richer. But that was the only indication, however, as there were still plenty of beggars, thieves and crossbowmen watching the crowds like vultures from above. It was slightly unnerving to feel eyes bore into my head from above. I longed to climb onto the rooftops myself, but this close to the Vatican would cause too much trouble. I looked away from the skies with a tiny sigh, deciding it was time to start working.

Picking pockets was almost a forgotten art to me. The last time I cut someone's purse was almost a decade ago, yet I fell into the task eventually. I casually walked past the people as they examined wares and signs, and carefully cut their strings with my hidden blade. It was too noisy for any of them to hear the jingle of coins, and everyone was far too distracted to notice the quick movement of my hand. My confidence didn't last long, however.

I reached for another purse, when suddenly someone closed their fingers on my wrist. My head snapped around, and I instinctively tried to wrench my arm away, but the grip was like a steel manacle. I growled at the man, and with surprise realized that he was dressed as a thief, a cloth mask hanging over his mouth and a dagger in his other hand. His eyes flickered to mine before he wrenched my arm around, revealing the mechanism of my hidden blade that was build into the bracer.

"This blade..."

That was enough for me to realize the guy was bad news. Without listening to him further, I kicked him in the stomach, at the same time unsheathing the hidden blade. He yanked his fingers away from me, and I took off into the crowds, sliding in between people. He shouted something behind me.

"_Cazzo_," I hissed under my breath. To be taken by surprise by a common robber... "I _am_ losing my touch..."

I shot off from the crowds into the side alley as though a spring popped, and regretted it several times as I ran the corners. I did not know the layout of the city, and the thieves, which were still after me, held a huge advantage at that. Were they coming in from the entire city? Where did these numbers come from?

I had little time or breath to do further mathematics. I didn't even know where I was going, but fool's luck kept me from running into dead ends. Finally, I heard a few circling around to try and cut me off, and without thinking, I ran straight into the wall in front, working my legs up to reach the ledge overhead. I quickly climbed my way to the top, praying to Minerva that they did not have throwing knives.

The height did not give me much aid in orientation, and I picked the first landmark that I laid eyes on- Castello Sant'Angelo.

_These bandits are awfully persistent,_ I absently thought to myself. Was stealing on their turf such a huge offense that they had to chase me though the alleys and rooftops in such numbers? I could just stop and fight them all, but with my current equipment, or the lack of thereof, I would not get away without a few scratches. I had to hide...

A bolt shot somewhere behind me, and I instinctively ducked, swearing through clenched teeth. Alleys and rooftops were no longer my friends. What was left?

I dropped down to a haystack on the street, and quickly got out, continuing to run towards the Tiber River. The wide bridge contained too many guards for my liking, so I instead passed around it, onto the supports, and hid under the bridge, catching my breath.

Nothing. Just the usual sounds of the crowds, who were only a little bit miffed about my behavior. I let out a small sigh of relief. The thieves must have lost sight of me. But…they recognized my blade? So were they a group serving the Borgia? Did they know that assassins were in Roma? The blades were like a trademark for the Auditore family, yet...

I quickly took off my bracer, and drew back my sleeve. The metal was cool on my skin, and slightly uncomfortable, but I still strapped it back on, and then drew the fabric over it. _Bene_, it was not visible under the loose material. I snapped the blade out, it tore through the fabric at the wrist, and settled on my open palm.

Perfect.

Once that was done, I sat for a few more minutes before checking on the money I'd stolen. It was all in place, and quite a decent sum, too. Not enough for a good sword, but I'd be able to get a proper dagger, which I was more comfortable with, anyway. I tucked the pouch away, and got up, carefully walking from under the bridge. Going back would be stupid for at least another hour, and forward was the Vatican. I looked at it with some doubt, and then shrugged to myself. The worst thing that could happen was me running like a scared rabbit again. That was fun only on territory I knew. Nevertheless, it was okay. Much better than the alternative...

Something suddenly brushed by my leg, and to my own shame, I let out a small cry of surprise. The rat glared at me, and ran to the other side of the bridge. I swore, and then wondered how the hell the rat got there. I examined the wall, and realized there was a locked grate not far from me that I did not notice before.

Hm. I heard Roma had a sewer system left from the days of the Roman Empire. So if anywhere, it would be here in the richer part of the city. I didn't put too much thought into my next decision, and picked the lock with my hidden blade, moving the grate open just enough so I could slip in.

The tunnels were strange. They did not smell of sewage water or waste, just old dust and rats. I shifted my eyebrows together as I entered the dark mouth of it, focusing and shifting into Eagle Vision so I could see properly in the dark. I couldn't help my smirk, the rush of excitement bursting through, like a troublemaker when he discovered a way to cause mischief and get away with it.

These were not the sewers, I realized easily enough as I walked through them, downwards straining my ears past the echoes. Ve-e-ery interesting... Almost too convenient, except for the fact that I was not the only human there. I could smell armor and human sweat in some of the tunnels that branched off. Likely, the Borgia were aware of them as well and had the important passages guarded. Good, or I'd be worried that our job was going to be too easy.

_"Seems like the Romans did a decent job at these..._" Altair muttered, curiosity and fascination in his voice. _"I heard rumors that there were many tunnels under Rome, used for traveling unnoticed by their armies. It seems that you have stumbled on one of the branches..."_

_But- all around Roma? I could be walking around here for hours! I have to get up on the surface, and then see about finding some maps of these catacombs._

_"If any are still around, that would be wise. But how to get up?"_

I didn't reply, coming to a stop at one of the walls, squinting and running my hand over the surface. I smudged the dust and dirt with my fingers, but found what I was looking for. Disguised, there were something like steps carved into the stone, leading up. I threw my head back, trying to see past the thick darkness that even Eagle Vision had trouble piercing. Attaching myself to the wall, there was little else to do but begin climbing upwards. Once I reached the ceiling, I tried to push it with my hand. It barely budged, but I noticed a spark of light at the edge of the tile. After a bit of effort and nearly falling off the wall, I managed to push it out and slide it to the side. The light almost blinded me, and I hurried to return my eyes to normal.

The sweet smell of cinnamon and bread hit my nose in welcome. Cautiously, I pulled myself up through the opening, and looked around. I was in some sort of storage room, or perhaps a kitchen. There was no one there, so I got up, and grasped the tile again, sliding it back into place. It submissively clicked shut.

_Neat._

Now, for my position. I breathed the air through my nose, noting the delicious pastries that were in the oven. There was a bit of flour in the air, though I did not recognize any other cooking materials, simply because I rarely ever came in contact with them. But they effectively covered up all other essences. No, this wouldn't work, I had to get outside.

I climbed through the window, dropping down into an empty alley, and tried again. _Bene_, this time I caught a whiff of expensive perfume along with other street smells. Already familiar with the things the cardinals and nobles sprayed on themselves, It was easy to tell the trends. The current one was a disgusting (in my opinion) combination of roses and some sort of strong oriental spice, something that not every citizen could easily afford. So I was in the Vatican, definitely...

Wait, that wasn't good…

I pressed my shoulder against the wall, and peeked around the corner at the main street. It was sunlit and lively, a huge difference from Roma with its clean buildings and trimmed trees and shrubbery. Another dead giveaway were the massive amounts of men dressed in heavy, scarlet, silken robes. They were the cardinals, I decided, though I had never paid any close attention to the distinguishing symbols and coat-of-arms between offices. I had absolutely no idea as to how the church operated on the most basic level, such as who had power over what. All I really knew was that the Pope was the most influential and powerful man in the Vatican. Perhaps even the known world, considering he was head of the church, which was followed by every citizen throughout the continent.

I suppose aside from that, I could conclude that his children were also somewhat like royalty. Cesare, as I heard from Niccolo already, was the General of the Papal armies, despite starting out with the church. Hm, I needed to ask Machiavelli about the other children, just in case. Likely there some other relatives and extended family in charge, too. As I learned in all of my years in this time, nepotism had its strengths. So the Pope was likely handing out important jobs left and right to those bound to him by blood. Not that blood mattered to politicians too much, but it did make a significant difference to give a right-hand job to someone who you have been controlling since birth, rather than questionable outsiders.

I wondered what to do next. Staying was risky; I did not like the sight of the heavy guard patrols. They likely remembered my face from our break in, so it was far too dangerous to try and blend with the crowds. Drawing my hood up in these crowds would be even more suspicious. The backstreets could have patrols as well, and I would be immediately detected. For the same reasons the rooftops were out. What to do... Hm...

The solution came suddenly as I watched a noblewoman pass by the mouth of the alley with a pink umbrella in her elegant hands, protecting her porcelain skin against the hot sun. I smirked to myself, and moved to follow her. I had to hurry, no doubt there were guards around.

As much of a temptation that it was to simply yank the umbrella from her hands, she would no doubt begin screaming, drawing unwanted attention. So I took a more creative approach, put my foot out, and caused her to let out a small yelp. It sent her flying onto the man in front of her, at whom she directed the full brunt of her anger. _Hehe, sorry darling, completely your fault for wearing such no doubt fashionable, but completely impossible skirts._

As the commotion proceeded and all eyes were trained on the pair, I simply picked up the umbrella, putting it over my shoulder, and walked away. There were many other women with such umbrellas, and by the time she remembered of it, I would already be out of the Vatican.

Yeah, I should have figured I was getting too cocky.

Papal Guards, or the Swiss Guard as they would later be known as, were tall men with wide frames that easily outmatched Ezio's, and probably even Barto's. They wore protective shiny black armor with the papal coat of arms flashily embroidered on the front. It concealed every bit of them, like the Brutes, and their only potentially weak spot were their upper legs and a few tiny spots in between pieces of plate metal. Yet it were their weapons that alarmed me the most when I approached the exit to the Vatican, past the Castello. They carried long broadswords that were nearly literally bigger than me. Yet they were obviously meant for use with only one hand. But on their belts were also pistols - either matchlock or wheel-lock. Still, in either case, they were trouble. Big, well-armed and implacable.

Yet despite their decorative armor, they stood with straight postures of soldiers, coldly staring into the faces of everyone passing with concealed eyes. Even the cardinals that passed this way every day were visibly nervous under a stare like that. I was suddenly a bit intimidated, as well, though I would never let that show. Despite that even I knew that those men were not to be trifled with. I'd take on all the other guards in the city before I openly challenged these boys.

I decided to risk it anyway, trying to walk as casually as I could with the flow of the crowds. The guards were not stopping anyone, simply watching each person as they passed. It still didn't help my rising unease. I nearly stumbled in my step when I felt one of the gazes stop on me, suddenly reminded of Dante, Marco Barbarigo's body guard. He managed to get a similar reaction out of me during the memorable Carnevale of Venezia. Yet this was different somehow. Ten times more dangerous, the risk was infinitely higher here. I was in the Vatican, after all, at the heart of the Templar power...

Good thing I loved gambling with my life. Otherwise I would have already jumped into the river, or did something to give myself away.

I caught the man's stare calmly, seeing the reflected light in his eyes under the helmet. And cockily continued to walk past. Let them recognize me. I was itching to get my hands on a pistol, anyway...

_Come on...just realize which poster you've seen these scars on...let me feel your blood...I won't run this time, I promise, I just need a bit of violence to set me straight..._

Someone forced my head to turn away from the guard, and my walk got slightly faster without me realizing. The spell lifted as soon as I broke eye contact, and I blinked with surprise.

_"Are. You. Out. Of. Your. __**Mind**__?"_ Altair roared into my ear, causing me to wince._"Use your head girl, before they remove its __idiotic weight__ from your shoulders!"_

"Signora?" the papal guard asked me, his voice low and filled with icy, sharp steel, though still professional. I stumbled slightly in my step. His gauntlet-encased hand on my shoulder stopping me from moving, I froze like a spooked mouse at his slightly echoing, metallic tone. "Careful now, you wouldn't want to draw undue attention, now, would you?"

"Of course not," I muttered, suddenly feeling my confidence evaporate.

_If he attacks, I'm jumping into the water._

_"For all the good it will do when he has a firearm."_

_Oh. Well, then, it was nice knowing you-_

"Try to be more cautious in the future."

I couldn't tell if he was purposely toying with me, or giving me the same warning he gave all other passers-by. So I silently nodded, and continued walking, holding my breath of relief until I was a safe distance away.

A slightly hysterical laugh tore through my lips. Well, what did I expect? Posters or no, these men likely got their orders directly from Cesare. And I was hardly important in this game; it was Ezio who was the centerpiece of the Assassin order, and I was hardly anyone in their eyes, just a woman lucky enough to have survived this long at his side. But...no, Niccolo said they were no longer underestimating me. At the very least I could provide some useful information. So what saved me?

I didn't particularly enjoy playing games in which I had little idea of what the rules entailed. Yet there was a certain excitement in it, I realized as I walked over the bridge, staying at the heart of the crowd. So far Roma was proving to be a challenging new playground, like Machiavelli so eloquently put it, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid or nervous. Or in a bit deeper than I originally thought. On the opposite side of that coin, there was a familiar and pleasant tingle in my body, like in an addicted gambler before a game where everything was at stake.

With my exploration of Roma, I had almost forgotten what had gone down the past few days. Once I realized it, I felt a pang of guilt. Ezio was likely still unconscious, Adel was still nowhere to found, Claudia and Maria were a world away in Florence…I should have been biting my nails in worry, not playing explorer in catacombs and having staring contests with the Papal Guard. Yet I knew my husband far too long. If he did not kick the bucket through the field surgery and the four day ride to Roma, he would survive. But I had to keep my head in the game.

...time for lunch.

* * *

The Blind Bard, the tavern that was located near the Tiber Island hideout, reminded me uncannily of the Dirty Knife in Venice in all aspects but one- it wasn't anywhere near as crowded. The name for these sorts of establishments were usually picked from some sort of event, like an inside joke. So perhaps there was a blind musician that traveled through here, or maybe it was a bard that got his eyes beaten out of him. It hardly mattered to me, though. I discretely sniffed the air as I sat down by the window beside the door, investigating. Aside from the bloody steaks in the kitchen and the sharp smell of iron daggers that most of the scarce customers carried, there was no sign of guards.

As I had mentioned, the inn was almost strangely empty. There were only a few tables occupied, and a few of the men hurried to leave at my entrance. I followed them with raised eyebrows, which unnerved them further. _Oh well, not my problem,_ I thought as I shrugged to myself. Perhaps it was just a coincidence...

The grim barkeep seemed to be avoiding me too, coming up to the other tables and loudly asking whoever remained if they enjoyed their meal. The customers, slightly shocked at the sudden friendliness, nodded and hurried to show it by stuffing the food from their plates into their mouths, their expressions of pleasure masking the grimaces of disgust. I was not in a rush, so I waited, looking out the window.

When it became obvious to the owner of the tavern that I wasn't going anywhere, he finally came up to me himself.

"_Buona sera_, signore," I smiled brightly at the man. He grimly nodded. "It would help if you hired a serving girl or too, you know."

"I will keep that in mind." he grumbled. "What do you want?"

"Some food would be nice."

"Wine?"

"Er, cider."

"Five ducats."

"Are you kidding?" my smile didn't falter. I just bared my teeth slightly. The innkeeper visibly flinched. _What is going on with everyone?_ "It costs only one in any other tavern."

"Times are hard, Signora."

_Hard, yes. But you were just trying to find a scrape goat for the lost customers, weren't you_? I drummed my fingers on the table, still looking at the man with a dangerous smile. Then I noticed that everyone who was in the room paused in the midst of their meals to stare at us. The piece of meat on one man's fork sadly flopped back down to his plate. It turned out there were serving girls, but they were whispering and peeking through the keyhole in the kitchen. Not to mention the fact that they stopped as soon as my eyes fell on the door leading there. I shifted my eyebrows together.

"What is going on around here?" I finally asked, "What, do I have blood and chicken feathers on me or something?"

The barkeep's face reddened. "...No. But are you not the assassin from those wanted posters?" he asked stiffly.

I blinked, and held back my groan. _Damn it, I completely forgot._ "Why would you think that? Actually, don't answer that. Just get me the food."

"Money up front."

I threw him one gold coin only. He deflated slightly, and walked away. Everyone in the room let out sighs of disappointment. I ignored them, preferring to continue staring out the open window at the skies. At least those were cheerful and beautiful...

The plate nearly smashed into bits in front of me, and I resisted the urge to jump.

"Well, as friendly as you are," I muttered to the man, who looked as though he was suffering a severe tooth ache. "Mind explaining to me what the hell those people are staring at me for?"

"What people? You, Signora, scared away all my customers," he growled.

"Did I now?" I raised my eyebrows, poking at the questionable food, "I would have thought it was the food that scared them off," I sniffed The man stormed off without any response. I picked up the piece of meat with my fork, examining it with suspicion. It looked like the sole of a boot, with teethmarks on one side. I tried to shake it off the fork, yet it wouldn't budge. And when I applied more force, it made a beautiful arc across the room, and fell into the waste bucket. The barkeeper followed its flight with a sour expression. I guess such a masterpiece of cuisine was moving from table to table for a long time.

My appetite was not spoiled by what was left on the plate. The baked potatoes were okay, oily and without any taste. The lone carrot that could have totally been rotten was completely overcooked, and when rolled off my plate, I didn't risk touching it again. I pushed the potatoes around the plate, while still looking out the window. Considering what passed for "food," my appetite remained completely unsated…like there was a choice.

"Is everything to your tastes?" the barkeep appeared beside me. I looked at him thoughtfully, and smiled.

"Why yes! In fact, I like this place so much, I think I'll draw out the pleasure for a few more hours. You have nothing against that, do you?"

By his irritated breathing I could easily tell that he had everything against that. But he didn't dare breathe a word to a wanted criminal. I found that amusing.

"Of course not," he ground out, and evaporated. He came back a few minutes later, though, and put a plate of steaming chicken in front of me. "But perhaps Signora would be satisfied with this faster?"

"Hm..." I took a bite, sniffing carefully in case it was poisoned. This meal was much better, the chicken tender and spiced, melting in my mouth. He likely took it away from another customer to get rid of me. And as tempting as it was to eat it slowly just in spite, I couldn't resist, and shamefully finished it record time.

Immediately, as I sent the last bite into my mouth, someone took the chair opposite of me. I blinked in surprise. The man had very average appearance of a poor merchant, with barely any distinguishable traits about him. In his hands he was crumpling a ratty old hat, a bead of sweat running down his face.

"Er, did I say I was looking for company?" I raised my eyebrows, seeing as the he was not showing any signs of starting the conversation first. "Come now, Signor," I smirked, "You should know better than to cling to girls in questionable establishments."

The barkeep loudly breathed through his nose, but I spared him no mind.

"Well- you- you're that girl."

"Eloquently put. Which girl? There are a lot on Earth," I propped my chin up on one hand, crossing my legs. Just in case, however, I put my free hand on the hilt of my sword. We were speaking very quietly now, none of the other customers could possibly hear it. I was used to speaking to Ezio, who could pick up the tiniest whisper, so I had no problems distinguishing this man's voice.

"The- assassin, right?" he stammered. I almost felt sorry for him, as he was sweating buckets now. I continued to be surprised at these people, though; if they knew who I was (wonder where from? The posters offered that much information), then why did they risk coming up to a person they were so afraid of?

"Assassin?" I hummed, finishing off the last drop in my cup. The cider was far too sour, but it was okay. Well, no use in denying the obvious, then... "What of it?"

"Well, there is this man..."

"Whoah, let me stop you for a moment. Who do you think I am, exactly?" I tilted my head to the side. "I am not mercenary. I'm not going to take their contracts."

"Of course not, I meant no offense!" he hurried to backtrack, "But in case you wanted to earn a coin, there is a man that the world could do without."

"Hm. All right," I sighed, again checking around the tavern, By now, it was nearly empty, save the barkeep and a painfully thin serving girl who was clearing away the wooden dishes at the table behind us. Hopefully, I wasn't walking right into an ambush… "It's not like I have anything better to do," I nodded, "Tell me more."

To tell the truth, I simply had little desire to go back to the empty hideout. It wouldn't hurt to what this man had to say, and then decide from there.

"More?" my potential customer questioned, eyes wide with what could only be described as surprise. Perhaps at the fact that I hadn't killed him yet, as he probably thought I would? God knew those posters like to exaggerate. "Well, he's the captain of one of the patrols. He continues to wreck my stalls and demand bribes for supposed 'protection.' I can't sell a damn thing with him coming around everyday!"

"A Borgia soldier, eh?" I thoughtfully hummed. "Well, I suppose that would be for the benefit of all. But are you sure that once he is dead, others won't come by?"

"They will," his lower lip shook and he blinked rapidly. _Oh lord, he's not going start crying, is he? _I swore to myself, beginning to get mildly uncomfortable. To see a man so beat down was never a pretty sight. "But if I could just earn enough money to move my family away from here..."

"Ah," I threw my arms behind my head, and leaned backwards on the chair, examining the questionable stain on the ceiling. "How much would you pay to have him taken care of, then?"

"What- just like that?" the man didn't seem to believe his ears. I shrugged.

"Yes. You tell me where to find him, give me half the money now, and the rest when he's dead. If you don't know where he is, that's fine, I can work with just a name."

"And you won't tell anyone about this?"

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him with slight surprise. "Of course not. I'm an assassin, but I do honest business. With those who deserve it, anyway. But are you sure you want to condemn another human being to death like that? I have no qualms with it, but think carefully if you want that on your soul," I said, not without a bit of irony in my tone.

He was silent for a moment. And then there was a grim look in his face as he nodded. "I need to think of my family."

I gave him a friendly smile, as though we were discussing something as innocent as the weather. "Then it is settled. Don't worry, I'll follow him away from your stall, so no one will suspect you. You can attend to your business. Now, about the money...?"

"You must understand, I can't spare too much, or-"

"Yeah, yeah, just how much?"

"Fifty ducats is all I can give you."

"Fifty?" I chewed on my lip, and then shrugged. Usually the guilds took at least a hundred and fifty for a group of four. Though my job was slightly more...heavy than the courtesans or thieves, I suppose it was not bad, for a start.

A start? Hm. Well, why not? I mean, I took contracts from the Order before. Now I would simply be offering my services to people outside of it. Assassins were in demand, after all, to nobles and struggling merchants alike. So if their goals had some sort of value to us, well, it was good day for all.

_Machiavelli won't like this,_ I thought to myself. Ezio probably won't either. But hey, I was my own person. I did not need their permission to do as I pleased. Plus, I needed money, the sooner, the better.

I abruptly stood up, and the man flinched. "Well then. Twenty five up front, and-"

"Ah, I wasn't expecting to run into you here," he suddenly interrupted me, "It was-"

"An impulse. Fine, I get it," I shrugged lazily, showing that I really couldn't care less when I got the money. "Then join me for breakfast here tomorrow and we'll work something out. Now, take care of yourself," I smiled as charmingly as I could. Before he could say anything else, I walked towards the bar and put another gold coin in front of the barkeep. It disappeared a moment after hitting the wood, Hell, the man even muttered "Come again," with a forced smile.

"Where have you been?" Machiavelli looked up from the table.

"Around," I replied, flipping a new throwing knife as I walked inside. "Exploring. Socializing. Running away...the usual things."

He pressed a hand to his forehead. "Are you going to tell me anyway, or do I not want to know?"

"Both. You wouldn't happen to know about any large cutthroat gangs in Roma?"

"I'm hardly the man to ask such things," he replied.

"Who would be the man to ask such things of, then?"

"Well, the leader Thieves Guild, but I don't know who that is."

"Wouldn't they be the gang?"

"All I know is that they are acting exactly as a neutral Guild would. But there are more gangs in the city, I'm sure of it. Perhaps you ran into the Cento Occhi, they have been on the Borgia's side for almost a year now."

"Cento Occhi...is that their original way of saying they have eyes everywhere?" I snorted, falling into the chair opposite of him, and putting my legs up on the table. He glanced at them sourly, but didn't comment. Only pulled his papers away from my muddy boots.

"What were your impressions?"

"They have good coordination," I decided. "They tried to corner me instead of allowing me to lead them on a goose chase that I would have easily outrun. Came from all sides, forcing me up on the roofs where the archers were. But with all that, they still act like any bandit group would. Amateurs, too."

"Amateurs? What makes you say that?"

"They wore masks," I snorted. "Professionals have no need to hide their faces. No one would see them anyway. Running was a bit difficult, but in comparison to the Papal Guard, it was almost child's play."

"You fought with the Papal Guard?" he shot up.

"No," I calmed him down, "I walked past them. That was enough to figure out what they're capable of. Come now, Niccolo, I'm not quite stupid enough to provoke those boys when I didn't even have proper equipment. And on enemy grounds, too."

"What were you even doing in il Vaticano?"

"Like I said, I was exploring. Cut a few purses off the cardinals, and I even managed to get enough money to buy throwing knives, a dagger, and a new bag." I was slightly put out by the fact that my old bag, which was filled with medical supplies, lockpicks and other useful equipment was buried in the Auditore villa. But I could replace my supplies, with a bit of work. A lost bag meant nothing when in comparison, I got off lightly. "By the way, do you know anything of the underground tunnels? I found a path that leads right into the heart of the Vatican."

"Yes, we've been using those tunnels to get from one place in the city to another, bypassing the guards," he disappointed me slightly. Then again, what did I expect? Someone was bound to find those tunnels. "Most of the entrances in the city have collapsed, but there are still a few open. One is in this hideout."

I remembered the strange structure right of the door to the stairs, and nodded. "But how the hell do you navigate there? I nearly broke my eyeballs trying to find some sort of exit."

"There are marks we have left there," he shrugged. "You probably didn't- wait, did you say you found a way into the Vatican?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, there was a locked grate under the bridge. I just sort of walked until I got somewhere, and climbed up in the pantry of some bakery."

"No one saw you, right?"

"Well, personally I think that lady should thank me for making her hair stand, it won't get in her eyes."

"Eden!"

"I'm kidding, no one saw me," I grinned. He looked at me with suspicion, but let it go. I decided he would sleep better without the knowledge of my other adventures, and didn't add anything more.

"What are you planning to do next?"

"I got a contract for an assassination," I shrugged, "So, my job, I guess."

"A contract?"

"Did I stutter? Yes, a contract. I _am_ an assassin, so I don't see why I can't work by my profession once in a while if I'm low on money. Don't worry, I know how to sweep my trail."

He looked as though he was ready to argue, but then suddenly just shook his head.

"It is on your head, then. I just have a request for you- keep up communication through the pigeon coops. They are scattered throughout the city, and you should be able to find a pigeon that flies here. If you come across anything of note, write a message. It will also help us know where you were last if you go missing."

"If I go missing, it would only be because I want to," I grumbled lowly. But I didn't argue any more.


	4. Chapter 4

_Cloak, dagger, sword, bag, crossbow__, _I muttered to myself, checking my usual tools of destruction one last time. I slid the throwing knives into their sheathes with practiced ease, strapped on the closed quiver, tightened my bracer, threw my hood on. And then closed my eyes, letting out a relieved breath.

"You seem pleased," Machiavelli noted, looking up from the letter he was writing for a moment. There was a slight frown on his face, for some reason deeper than usual.

I gave him a slightly strained smile. "What can I say? I love my job. I feel a whole lot more confident now that I'm properly equipped and ready again."

"Just where are you heading?"

"Wherever my legs take me. Don't worry, I'll be back by curfew."

He looked at me with his unamused stare that I was becoming accustomed to. I rolled my eyes and specified, "I'll finish the job and then do some work for the good of all. A bit of pocket change will give me some room to party, too. By the way, I was thinking of refurnishing this place, what do you think?"

"Are you planning on staying in Roma for long, then?"

"Hell yes. So I suppose a few throw pillows are in order..."

Machiavelli gave a tired snort of amusement, surprising me. Then he returned to normal, and furrowed his eyebrows. "I suppose it is a waste of time to tell you to be careful and not draw attention?"

"A complete waste of time," I confirmed as cheerfully as possible.

"Then be gone, woman. Before I catch your insanity."

"You're in a rather lively mood this morning," I raised my eyebrows. Word sparring was one thing, but his voice was insulting this time, "Something wrong?"

"Wolves," he ground out, allowing his frustration to show for a brief moment as he jammed the quill back into the inkwell.

I did a double take. "Wolves?"

"Yes, wolves. The Followers of Romulus. The Sect of Wolves. Lunatics in costumes, pick a name."

"Romulus? As in, the guy who was supposedly fed by a she-wolf and founded Rome?"

"Not exactly, though the legend is hardly important. There is now a cult in his honor: fanatics, insane jackals that live and act like wolves, praising their ghost."

"So? If they feel like gathering into packs and hunting hares and sheep, what does it matter? They'll all die from eating raw meat eventually, anyway." I smirked skeptically. Machiavelli did not think the subject was humorous.

"Eden, they've been terrorizing the outlying farms in the countryside and the poorer districts, driving the people there straight into the arms of the church, begging them for help. Problem is, the Borgia are likely in a close alliance with the cult. Even if the raids stop, it is only for short periods of time." He rubbed the sides of his head tiredly. I felt a small pang of sympathy for him, as I did not hear him come into his room the night before. Considering the numbers of papers on his table, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he hadn't slept at all.

"Then there aren't many options left with them- either exterminate them completely, like cockroaches, or offer them more money than the Borgia are giving."

"I suspect this is not a matter of bribery. This cult was not formed until recently, and it is most likely because of the Borgia agenda that it came to be. We will not be able to forge an alliance with them, and even if we could, I would not take such measures. Too unstable and unpredictable. I think we are better off with your first suggestion. But for that we would need an army, no less. They are...creative in their hideouts, usually skulking around abandoned shrines and buildings, and God knows what is down there..."

"Then what's left to do?"

His fingers almost nervously flicked through the strands of the quill. "My contact within their members has been discovered and executed - that was the last one on the inside. I have only a handful informers from the outside, but they are not always reliable. I have to meet up with a thief in the afternoon, as he had been tracing a message that could provide solid proof of the connection between the Followers and the Borgia. The last few we managed to intercept were coded, but with luck, this one won't be."

"And what are you going to do with that letter?"

"We are not completely without allies. And we have a rather powerful cardinal on our side. Giuliano della Rovere was competing with Rodrigo Borgia for the Papacy during the last conclave, but unfortunately lost."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, then?" I cocked my head with curiosity, "I thought you wouldn't like alliances built only on that."

"I don't, but this goes beyond that. Giuliano is a much better and stronger man than Rodrigo, and he would have been much healthier for Roma and Italy. He still holds many powerful friends, and he is not overly fond of the Templar organization."

"Wait, he knows about that?" I asked with genuine surprise. Considering how generally self-involved the nobles were, it was a rarity for such people to think beyond getting rich on the backs of the poor. Hell, it made sense that most of them were Templars in the first place, save mildly sensible ones like the Medicis of Florence, or the Sforza… …

"Not directly. He suspects- just as he likely suspects that my true loyalties do not lie with any of the governments."

I sat down, deciding to take advantage of Niccolo's suddenly talkative mood. "So if you find solid proof of the Wolves' ties to the Pope-"

"It will hold sway with the cardinals that have been maintaining neutrality, and perhaps with those that were bought by the Borgia. Not all of them know of the underground work, and the Borgias can be quite... persuasive. But this could change a few minds."

"You say the letters are coded, though."

"Yes, they use a one-time cipher, and without the key, the letters are just seemingly random numbers without any pattern."

"Are you so sure this one will be legible?"

"No," he admitted. "Though Vincenzo informed me that the Borgia are getting a bit careless in their false security."

"Why would they be?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "As long as I know Rodrigo, he was always extremely cautious, always trying to foolproof his plans. And after his defeat in the Vatican, I thought he would see no security measure as unnecessary."

"That is the exact problem. Rodrigo has handed nearly all power to his son by now, maintaining only the visibility of control. And Cesare believes that he has wiped all assassins out in Monteriggioni. He is certain that Ezio did not survive the wounds, and the mine collapsed on all those escaping, including you and your student. Considering no one outside of the Order knows of Claudia or Maria, in the eyes of the Borgia, the name Auditore is wiped from Italy's history. The only real reason the wanted posters are still up is as an extra precaution, in case one of you managed to get away."

"He called it a cleansing..." I remembered. For a moment, the fire and war raged in front of my eyes again, but I shook my head, chasing the ghost of the memory away. "But Rodrigo must have known the consequences of attacking an Assassin nest, and how hard it is to exterminate us. He had to have at least warned his son-"

"Cesare does not take any more advice from his father. Only money. The Pope hardly does anything but attend parties and sell Cardinal hats now."

"How are you so informed about Cesare?" I suddenly caught myself. Niccolo looked slightly put out at that, as though he hoped that I wouldn't ask.

"Firenze has sent me to act as an ambassador, figure out if there is any threat to la Tuscana from Cesare. I have traveled with him for a short time."

"Oh... I see, " I drawled, uncertain how to react to such statement. "So…they trust you?"

"Only as much as can be expected. Cesare, no matter the few mistakes he has made, is still a brilliant and talented man. He knows who to keep close, and for how long."

I cocked my head, a suddenly unpleasant feeling washing over me. Cesare Borgia. The name always rang a persistent bell in my head. But I was positive that I have not heard anything in the past few years. But why was he always associated with Niccolo in some way? Where could I have possibly... "You like his ways, don't you?"

"Would you understand if I said that I did?" Machiavelli raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe. If you explain why," I carefully replied, swallowing back my unease at his confession.

"The man has secured power at such blinding speed, though much of his success now is because of his father. But I believe that even without Rodrigo, Cesare would have found a way. The man is very... charming. I suppose that would be the right word; he knows how to make friends, create trust, rally the majority of those he targets as supposed alliesto his side. And then, he's able to turn around and crush his enemies, no matter where his loyalties and oaths lie. It is rare to see someone so...talented in achieving his goals."

"I see."

I had to admit, I agreed with him. Not many people could easily step on the heads of their friends, and still have the drive to move forward and upwards. All in all, I'd seen such examples in history, where no matter how evil the dictator was, nor how much his policies destroyed those forced to serve him, here was no denying that the man had talent and skill.

"It is strange, however..." I suddenly drew out, "That with all his brilliance, his people still hate him."

"You're right. But in a way, he's exhausted the people. Even if they managed to draw a rebellion or a revolution, they simply would not have the energy or means to carry it out it. So he's been proven right again..."

"But if he nurtured and cared for his people, then there would be no need for revolutions, as they would have supported them with both arms and legs," I chuckled without humor. "And now, he has given us an enormous advantage."

"What are you talking about?"

"If we somehow managed to rile the people enough, release them from whatever it is that's keeping them down at the moment- like we did in Firenze with Savonarola- then he will be swept off his feet no matter how many armies surround him."

"It is not so simple, my dear," Machiavelli furrowed his eyebrows. "Relying on the people is quite literally like building on sand. It would take far too long in Roma, with the current state of affairs. We have too many enemies, too many sides working against us, and not enough of those we can trust, especially with our lives. And I think you underestimate the size of Cesare's armies."

"Pessimist."

"Mad woman. If you would like to finally get an idea of exactly what we are dealing with, take a few moments to listen to the heralds on the streets tonight."

"Those liars?" I snorted with contempt, still bitter about the time I heard them call me a senile old hag with warts that steals children and eats them. The man who preached those lies kept his life only because Niccolo managed to catch me at the last moment, and dragged me away from the crowd. The throwing knife that narrowly missed the herald's neck should have served as enough warning for him to remember why his mommy told him not to lie as a kid. "I would not give a copper for their speeches."

"It is true that not all they say is reliable, but they do have a few interesting…news that you'll want to hear. Then again, perhaps not. It might make things a bit more difficult."

"What are you talking about?"

"As... enlightening this conversation is, you are not the only one with places to be," he suddenly changed the subject. "I have given you all I will."

I clenched my teeth. "Stop talking in riddles."

"You said you were going out. So get out, go do whatever it is that your insanity pleads."

"I will go whenever I wish," I curled my lip, "And I'm planning to spare us all further trouble with this information business, and find the Thieves Guild tonight."

"Do you even know where to start looking?" he looked at me with a stare that could freeze fire. With it, my patience snapped, and with one quick movement, I was leaning over the table, hovering an inch away from his face with my teeth bared.

To his credit, he didn't even flinch. Only tensed, but stared back with calm contempt that I was already becoming sick of.

"You ask me not to underestimate the Borgia," I snarled at him, "And yet you continue to underestimate _me_."

"I am only stating the reality." His tone of boredom bordered on contempt, nearly making my blood boil, though I flexed my fingers where I gripped the table on either side of him. It was better than sticking a blade through his neck, as I knew I would regret that a thousand times over... "I have not been able to find the Thieves Guild, nor could any of my contacts, and yet you expect to find them today?"

My hands were itching towards his neck, but I limited myself with another warning growl. "I know how to look. I also know the underground, and most importantly, how to ask _nicely_. And while I have you utmost attention, let me give you a fair warning. This is a Brotherhood, Niccolo, as you may have forgotten, and out on the job, we are all equals. All of us, no matter how important you think yourself to be in this, or how much I owe you. So if you _ever_ even think if trying to throw your saving our lives in my face again, I will disregard all common sense and the Creed, and rip off yours. Is that clear?"

He stared at me for a long time, with a deep frown etched into his face, and his eyes boring into mine, as though trying to calculate how much truth my statement held. I don't know exactly what he saw in my face. Perhaps all the fury that was building up for the past few weeks reflected in my expression, or perhaps the maniacal expression that sometimes frightened even those closest to me. Or perhaps he just decided that it was not worth the trouble. But eventually Niccolo backed down, and inclined his head. "Crystal."

My anger cooled just as suddenly as it flared, as though the ice in his voice chilled the fire. I suddenly thought that perhaps I went a little to far. At the very least, I shouldn't have lost control of myself. I knew from bitter experience what happened when I lost track of my anger. And I swore to myself to never allow myself to dive into that hatred again-

_-even if hatred and pain can give strength, allow one to see past all logic and reason. Even if the feeling of revenge was one of the sweetest tastes in the world, and at the same time, the most horrifying. But in that moment, when you stand over your own soul's corpse, and see all the carnage you have wrecked, all the people you have killed, all those men who could not believe a little girl could ever even summon up the courage to raise a blade against them, punished, all the torn flesh, the spilled blood, the complete an utter chaos... _

_You could not help but feel proud. Hurt, terrified, hating, but so proud of the fact that you have proven that you __are__ a force to be reckoned with..._

_So come on. What's another few corpses in order to get to those responsible for you family? You have killed a lot more for a lot less... Remember that satisfaction? Remember that demonic strength and willpower? It's easy to bring it back. Just allow this rage to take over. Kill, mutilate, destroy...after all, that is the only thing you're good at...__all__ that bullshit about creating life- you never meant it. Deep down, you knew that it was impossible, that a killer like you would ever get the chance. You were born to be a weapon, __nothing__ more- Larry saw __to__ that. Your father did, as well, __as much you will__ never admit it..._

_Is it independence you want? Well, my darling, take it. Screw the Creed. Forget the assassins. Kill only because you want to. Because you __**can.**_

_They hurt you. Hurt the world back. Like you did back then._

_No? Why not? Why struggle? You're old enough to realize that this is your life, and it will never change, no matter how hard you try. And you don't want it to change, or you wouldn't be here at this moment._

_Adel and Ezio...they will die soon too, won't they? With the way this is going. And when they do, you will lose your head. So it's not much of a choice- now or later._

_Still no? Well, then. Enjoy your sanity, sweetheart. For all the good it does for you..._

I nodded to Niccolo, straightened out, and without any further comment, I hopped out the window to the street below.

* * *

Waking up in a familiar place with sharp pains all over his body was becoming a bad habit to Ezio.

He wrinkled he forehead, trying to tear his eyes open, and even managing on the first try. Automatically, he tried to bring his hand to his eyes, but the sharp pain that his shoulder responded with made him gasp and drop it again.

"It's good that you're awake," he heard a quiet female voice mutter somewhere over him. It was unfamiliar, but as soon as he tried to get up, his shoulder screamed with pain, forcing him to fall onto his elbows with a grunt. "Carefully now..."

"Who are you? Where have you brought me?" Ezio finally looked at the woman. She was a fairly young, plump woman with light brown hair and peasant clothing. She was indeed a stranger, Ezio determined, which worried him slightly. The woman did not seem at all surprised by the slight hostility in his voice.

"Nowhere, Messere. You were brought in by a man and a woman." The woman did not try to stop him from getting up, because pretty quickly he realized himself that attempting it was a bleak prospect. "She said to tell you that she has gotten help, but couldn't stay at your side."

He processed that information. Eden, it was definitely her. But why would she-

"Be careful with your wounds," she warned again, though her expression was pleasant enough. "I have never seen someone heal this fast, but you still risk opening them up again if you move," she advised him, but he was already sitting up.

"Did she say anything else?"

"Not- not exactly. She sent a note soon after."

"A note? Can I see it?" Ezio furrowed his eyebrows. Something didn't seem right.

"Right here," rhe woman gave him the slip of parchment. He read over it, and his confusion grew.

_~"Machiavelli is in the city, and you are to meet him at the Mausoleo d'Augostino. E."~_

The letters were round and neat. It was definitely her best handwriting, but something was off. If she was writing it in a hurry, it shouldn't have been so clean. She was known to use any surface available when writing notes to him, including her own knee, the ground, walls, someone else's back (Ezio woke up to a quill poking his back quite often when she had to write something down, but didn't want to get out of bed). It was unlike her to find a desk and nicely write those things out.

The 'G's were off, too. She drew a little rounded squiggle under them, usually, and the 'C's were not curved in enough. She slanted her 'D's more than the other letters. Those were very small catches, ones that only someone who knew Eden for a very long time would notice. And Ezio qualified as just that.

The note was likely forged. But by whom? And why? To draw him into an ambush? What was in Mausoleo d'Augostino? And why Machiavelli?

"Machiavelli?" The situation was making less and less sense to him. "Why couldn't she meet me?"

"I do not know. Here, if you are intent on leaving, let me help you get dressed," the woman helped him stand up. With a grunt, Ezio decided things were not so bad. Granted, the pain continued to shoot through his arm and side, but it was hardly anything that a bit of medicine wouldn't fix...

He noted with surprise a familiar beaked cowl on the table beside the bed.

"Did she leave these for me?" Ezio asked with some hesitation, realizing that those were not his original robes. Nor were they that of Altair. They were much more plain, without streaks of red over the doublet, plain white with a crimson silk collar. That was believable, as Eden never really had much taste for unnecessary decorations or lace. And his own armor was likely crushed in... the villa. The clothes fit perfectly, however, so he decided to simply ask her about it later, once he found her.

"No, these were delivered here an day after she left... I assume that she had sent them, though."

"Where are we?" he asked as he got dressed. The woman showed no signs of surprise as he tested out the new hidden blade, and Ezio wondered again why Eden brought him here, or how she even knew this woman.

"Roma... or, rather, whatever is left of it since the Borgia took power," she bitterly replied, opening the door to show him. The light streamed into the room, forcing Ezio to shield his eyes as he took a step outside. "Unfortunately, you cannot see the Mausoleo from here."

"How about from the roof of that church?" he pointed to the chapel he could see rising on the edge of the city.

"Yes, but the stairs up are closed."

"That will not be a problem. Thank you for you aid, _bravo donna_." He gave her a respectful bow, and immediately his shoulder shot with pain. He let out a small grunt, putting a hand on the wall of the house, trying to chase away the dizziness.

"You would do well to see a doctor, Messere. There is one working down this street, in the shade of the ruined aqueduct."

"Of course," he nodded, and set off. Walking was painful, and he was beginning to worry that he would simply collapse in the middle of the road by the time the doctor finally came in sight.

"I require medicine," he ground out, coming to a blissful stop.

The doctor sighed, his eyes tired despite the early hour. "Let me see..."

After the examination, the man shook his head. "This has been very crudely worked, but the stitches are secure and there doesn't seem to be any infections. I'm afraid a man your age cannot recover from a wound like this with medicine. It will heal in time, but I can give you a potion for the pain. You should be able to use the arm."

"Thank you," Ezio nodded, putting out the coins that he found in the purse attached to his belt. Eden seemed to have thought things through.

"Four out of five doctors would have prescribed leeches, but they have not been proven effective against this type of injury. However, I can recommend some men in the city, should you require any more aid."

"Very well." Ezio listened closely to the names and their general location. There were only a few doctors in the city, he realized when the man told him of only three. That was... unfortunate, but Eden was proficient enough in healing to keep his wounds from becoming worse.

He left the doctor, and began walking towards the church, drinking the medicine on the move. The pain dulled, and soon he was able to walk without slumping over. He regained his usual confident stroll, and then suddenly realized something that made him slouch his shoulders again.

"Someone my age... _Imbicile_..." he muttered under his breath, sending a glare in the doctor's general direction. He did not consider himself that old. Old men usually sat behind doors, in front of fires, complaining about the good old days. Not climbing churches with an injured shoulder. And he was still far too handsome and charming.

He was _not_ old.

* * *

Well, I couldn't just walk away.

Of course not. Just like any other assassin, I just had to put my nose into it. Despite the fact that I quite clearly understood that there was no way I could stop all the violence in the city single handedly, and that really, my interference made absolutely no difference. All it did was give me away too soon.

And of course my opening just couldn't be a simple blade in the throat of the captain, it just had to be the cocky "What has this man done wrong?"

He turned around to look at me, and all the soldiers paused, also surprised at me. I guessed not many people actually stop to ask about the situation.

"Man? Signora, this is no man. He is a slave, filth and a heretic!"

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my composure. "He's wearing a crucifix. What makes you think he's a heretic?"

"They all do that, thinking it fools us!" one of the guards that was twisting the man's arm cried in fury.

"Signora, take my good advice- keep walking," the Captain was a bit more civilized, likely noting that my clothes were not that of a lowlife. At least, not anymore, thanks to Machiavelli. The fabric was even and dyed, my good old boots made from good leather- things that the common folk could not afford, especially not in Roma. So I was likely taken for some noble woman with a small tick for wearing pants instead of skirts. "We won't kill him, I promise you. We're simply going to teach him his man-"

The victim suddenly interrupted him with a loud groan that tore through his throat, and he spit blood onto the ground. The Captain's eyes flared, and he raised his fist. The punch never landed, however.

"I think he is not the one in need of a lesson in manners," I calmly stated, holding his arm in the air. Everyone gaped, including the man they were beating up. I decided not to waste the moment of confusion, and put a blade to the Captain's throat. "Let him go."

All of them pulled out their own blades, dropping the man. He fell face first into the ground, and I nodded in satisfaction.

"Wench, take a step away from the Captain."

"No," I coldly replied to that. "You honestly think I won't kill him if you so much as make a step towards me?" I brought my chin to rest on the captain's shoulder, smiling maniacally. "Try it, and I'll cut his throat. Leave this place, and I will let him go, and even without any scratches..."

"Do what she says," the Captain hissed at his men. I had held hostage bigger men than him, and he must have realized that he had absolutely no space to free himself. The blade was too tight to his artery. Even a flinch, a deep breath, and it would be over. "This piece of filth is not worth it."

"Hehe, I always find that holding a sharp weapon to someone's neck makes them more agreeable," I smiled with approval. "Go on now. I can kill you all if you'd like, but I'd rather live this day without more casualties- trust me."

"What are you, some sort of peaceful rebel?" The captain sneered, and I pressed the blade just a breath closer to the thudding skin in his neck, effectively shutting him up. The other guards did not run with their tails between their legs, but carefully backed away, keeping eye contact. Smart move, considering they did not know if I was bluffing or not...

Once they were out of sight, I let out a small laugh.

"Smart men they've started to breed... smart, and very sadistic. Ruining stalls, keeping poverty and despair in the city...is that your game? Actually, don't answer, I can see for myself.."

"Just shut up! You know nothing! Let me-" the command was cut short by my blade. He sunk to the ground in front of me, his hand not even making it to his throat. I knew how to kill quickly.

I shook my head to myself, and leaned down, wiping the sword on his cloak. Then I sheathed it, and turned to the beat up man on the ground. He stared at me with shock, his large jaw touching the earth. His face was slightly out of the ordinary in Italy, though I'd seen black men on the streets before, especially of port cities like Venezia and Forli. Paranoid people, understandably so. I'd also seen quite a few people, even the common peasants, look at them as though they were something they'd scraped from their boots. Disgusting, but that was history for you.

Personally, I never really saw differences between races. I preferred to judge people a bit more on their abilities and beliefs rather than the color of their skin. That did not mean I didn't scoff when confronted by Muslim beliefs, just like I did with Christian ones. But I tried to be one of the better, less violent skeptics in that aspect...

"Come on, up you go. We have to get out of here, or those men will come back," I extended him my hand. After a moment of hesitation, he took it, and I helped him stand up. He was shaky and uncertain on his feet, but he did not fall down again. "Are you hurt?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Then follow me."

"Why..."

"Because I think he was the only filth present." I thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged, leading the man away. "And also because he was my target. A bit of pocket change, really, but..."

"No," he shook his head, cutting me off. "Why help?"

"What?" That confused me slightly. "Because you looked like you needed help. What is your name again?"

"Anwar."

"A pleasure. I'm Eden." I looked glanced behind us as I dragged him into the nearest alley. "Do they know where you live?"

"I…do…not know."

"Then move your family. They will not appreciate my little stunt, that's for certain..."

"No family."

"Oh, well, even easier, then. Move yourself somewhere else. By the way, what the hell did those jackasses want?"

He looked at me as though I was mentally disabled. I was understanding less and less of the situation.

"I from Tangier…Morocco."

"So?"

That stumped him. "I from Tangier," he repeated, his face showing the utmost concentration. Then he recounted words that must have been familiar to him by now. "Slave, heretic, negro..."

"Oh, wait, I get it!" I slapped myself on the forehead. "Well, people are a bit narrow minded, aren't they? It's alright, let's just get out of here."

He tilted his head to the side. I only just realized that he replied to me in short sentences and had a look of confusion on his face while I talked.

"Oh- how much Italian do you speak?"

He either guessed what I meant, or knew a bit more than let on, but he made a gesture with his thumb and forefinger, showing that he knew very little.

"English?"

He shook his head.

"I see. Do you have any place to go?"

He didn't seem to understand. I chewed on my lip in thought.

"Home?"

He shrugged.

"Bed? Money? Anything?"

He pointed at the ground.

"Well that's just not good," I hummed. "I'm almost afraid to leave you alone, those guards might beat you again, or question you about me. I can't let you come with me, I'm really sorry, but that isn't my decision to make. So how about I buy you lunch, and we'll figure it out?"

He listened silently, likely not understanding what I had said, but watching me intently.

"Are you hungry?" I raised my eyebrows. "I know I am."

Anwar's eyes darted in the direction of the market. Then he looked at me with a mixture of deep confusion and disbelief. I mirrored it, not really understanding why he reacted this way.

"Food. You know, eating," I smiled, "I got some pocket change thanks to that captain, so I can spare it."

* * *

"Ezio," Machiavelli greeted coolly, but with well-acted out surprise. "I did not expect to run into you here."

"I thought you had sent for me." Ezio narrowed his eyes slightly in suspicious. Something didn't feel right with the entire story that the lady told him, and there was a rather obvious false note in Niccolo's voice.

"Never. News of the villa attack spread rapidly through Roma. Until Eden showed up a few nights ago, I thought you were dead."

"Not yet. I am still very much alive."

"Let us make sure the Borgia don't hear of this, or their attention will return. Come, walk with me. Try not to draw any attention to yourself."

"When do I ever?" Ezio fell into step beside the man. "To tell the truth, I expected to find Eden here."

"Eden is occupied at the moment," the politician shrugged.

Ezio felt a sharp tug of disappointment, "What has she been doing?"

"Socializing," there was a slight twitch on Machiavelli's lips, as though he remembered something. "She is perfectly alright, you will see her- well, whenever she chooses to come back. She has been out for most of the days, coming back only for rest and directions."

"I see." Eden was still in her element, going where she pleased without notice and disregarding all human curfews. Though she had been doing it less over the past decade, Ezio thought back. She once complained that she was becoming too domestic, but it was never really an issue. Yet in a way, it was easy to tell that she was restless in a small town like Monteriggioni. Roma had to be more to her tastes...

"It is wise to replace any missing equipment. You will not survive in Roma for long without it," Machiavelli changed the subject, heading towards a blacksmith shop.

"I have my blade."

"And the guards have their guns, courtesy of the Borgia." Niccolo came to a halt, glaring at Ezio, and got out his money pouch. "Fortunately for you, I can help. And while you are in my debt, perhaps you will listen to reason."

"As soon as I hear some, I will let you know," Ezio sneered back, but took the money, stepping up to the blacksmith's window. The shopping did not take long, as there was not much choice in the merchandise. He briefly balanced the thin dagger on his finger, and was left unsatisfied. He was used to being able to afford the best equipment, and being forced to deal with only the most inferior of weapons left him in a slightly worse mood.

"Now you should be able to survive the trip back to Firenze. Eden had made it clear that she was staying here, but perhaps-"

"I am not going to Firenze."

"Oh?"

"Roma will not be freed until we rise up against the Borgia. Every last one of them," Ezio calmly stated.

"I do not recall such brave talk at Monteriggioni."

"How could I have known that they will find us so quickly?" Anger flashed in his voice, "That they would kill Mario?"

Machiavelli did not comment on that, but his thoughts of _"But you should have foreseen the consequences,"_ were loud enough. Instead, he changed the subject. "Rodrigo surrounds himself with powerful men, snakes, like him. Even his daughter, Lucrezia, has been sharpened into one of his most artful weapons. But even she pales in comparison to the man who was behind the attack on the villa. He is ruthless and cruel beyond imagining. The laws of men mean nothing to him."

"Give me his name." Ezio's voice was carefully controlled, but his eyes promised blood.

"Cesare Borgia. He has amassed an army and gained many allies throughout Europe. Those who are not destroyed by him scramble to his side. Powerful families, like the Orsini and the Colonna have been brought down to kneel before him. Even the French king has given his support." Niccolo held a pause, and then concluded, "He set his sights on all of Italia, and at this rate, he shall have it."

"Is that admiration I hear in your voice?" Ezio narrowed his eyes. Machiavelli looked up to the sky with a somewhat weary look on his face.

"The man knows how to exercise his will. A rare virtue in the modern day and age."

"I'm sure."

They paused near the stables, which were closed. Well, more like barricaded, much like most of the shops and stores of the city. Ezio could hear horses on the other side of the boards, and briefly wondered who would do that to the poor animals.

"Roma is quite large," Ezio must have noticed the stables, as well. "Would it not be faster to travel by horse?"

"The Borgia have taken over desirable areas of the city," Niccolo waved his hand in the direction of a tall tower, which bore flags with a crimson bull on them. Crows circled above it, filling the air with shrill, croaking squawk that made him shiver. They looked more like vultures circling the battlefield in search of flesh rather than innocuous birds. Ezio did not believe in ill omens, but how much more obvious could you get? "We cannot use the stables here," Machiavelli's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh, and the word of the Borgia is law now?" Ezio raised an eyebrow.

Niccolo looked affronted. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Machiavelli." Ezio narrowed his eyes, and walked away, heading to the tower.

"What is you plan?"

"I'm improvising."

* * *

I patted the horse on the neck, and she immediately began sniffing my pockets. I laughed and gave her the apple that I got just for her. She ate it, thoughtfully chewing through the offering, and decided it was good enough. I didn't climb up the offered side, however, turning back around to Anwar.

"I still have business in the city," I spoke, still not minding the fact that he likely didn't understand any of it. "You know, you could try going over to the Thieves Guild or something, or the mercenaries. They're not very picky about who they take into their ranks, as long at they are reliable and silent."

He stared and then made a vague gesture with his arms, spreading them in question. Then he opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by an explosion that happened somewhere in the city.

We both turned to the sound, along with the other passing citizens, all throwing each other confused glances. I furrowed my eyebrows together, and forgetting myself, climbed up onto the roof of the stable to get a better look. Once I saw the source of the noise, I let out a low whistle.

"Well, will you look at that!" I spoke loudly, so the people down below could hear. I couldn't help the glee that entered my voice at the splendid sight. "One of the Borgia towers is burning!"

"What?"

"There is no way..."

"The Sire will be furious!"

"What do we care? We didn't do it..."

"Are you daft? You know how much life gets worse when the Borgia are unhappy?"

"It can't be worse than what we're forced to deal with already!"

"_Ja_, if that wasn't bad enough, they also made friends with those damned French! As though we didn't get enough of them when they stormed through the streets and burned down our houses only because the Pope was too much of a coward to come out and face them!"

"SHH! Are you insane? If the guards hear you talking like this..."

"Get off the roof, wench! We don't have money to put new tiles in!"

I stuck my tongue out at the barkeeper below, and waved a hand to Anwar, deciding not to waste anymore time. I first planned to go by horse, by then I came to the conclusion that hunting was much easier on foot.

The new development has put me in a good mood, and I ran over the rooftops with far more energy and enthusiasm than I'd felt since I arrived in the city. Hah, I almost forgot how absolutely refreshing it was to run like this without anyone on your tail. I darted and flew fast enough to become a blur to the archers, making my way without any opposition towards the Antico district...

* * *

"I seems the stables are now available for purchase." Machiavelli ground out at Ezio's approach. The assassin smirked, throwing away the blackened torch, and nodded.

"After you," he gestured with sarcastic politeness.

"How is it you manage to draw more attention than your uncontrollable wife, I will never know."

"Ha! You don't know Eden! If I can do that, she could have the entire Castello Sant Angelo go up in flames." Ezio mounted the readied horse.

"Let us hope it does not come to that. Though she has been acting strangely lately, so I would not be surprised." Niccolo shrugged.

"Strangely? She- she didn't go into a frenzy, did she?" Ezio furrowed his eyebrows with sudden worry.

"No, but she appeared close to it a few times. I don't think she realizes just how transparent she is..."

Ezio jerked his shoulder. "What did she do?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with at the moment. Come, I am meeting a contact in the countryside."

* * *

I huffed, finally forcing the thief to the ground. "Damn it, I'm not trying to hurt you! Please stop running away!"

"Did I take your money or something?" he yelled in protest, but, I held his arms behind his back, rendering him unable to twist or wiggle. "Women these days-"

I caught my breath, and pushed my knee onto his back as well, just to be sure. "Now, before I have my way with you-"

"_CHE COSA?_"

"I'm kidding. Look, I'm searching for the Thieves Guild."

"Wha- a guild?" he snorted, but very unconvincingly. "You're confusing me with those Cento Occhi thugs- AH!" I sat on him with my full weight. There was no one around, thankfully, because he ran off the road in the country side, and we were now on the grass beside the city walls. "Who the hell are you?" His voice was now strangled.

"I'll give you a hint." I crossed my legs as though I was on a picnic cloth rather than another human. "I kill people who don't share information."

"Good hint..." he didn't seem to appreciate my efforts.

"Better than some. Now talk. I know there is a proper Thieves Guild somewhere in Roma, and I don't mean these Hundred Eyed freaks. So either you talk, or I'll start removing bits of you with a blunt knife. And guess where I'll start..."

At that exact moment, there were soft footsteps somewhere behind me, and a familiar voice cut in.

"That's enough. Eden, be so kind as to get off Francesco."

"Wooptie doo, look who it is," I looked around at the man and crossed my arms, deciding it was now safe to remove them from the thief's. He didn't even try to get up, still squashed by my weight. "And there I was actually beginning to get worried that the Master Thief was losing his touch..."

The Fox let out a small, carefree laugh, coming closer. "So you knew I was here?"

"Suspected. We haven't heard from you since the meeting in Monteriggioni, so I figured you would always be in the one place we'd least expect."

"Can you get off me... please?" Francesco tried feebly to get up.

"Well, as long as you said the magic word," I rolled my eyes, getting to my feet. The young thief groaned, and remained on the ground for a few more seconds before getting up as well. "Funny, I thought men liked women on top of them. Silly me."

The glare he sent me was far from pleased. La Volpe, however, broke out laughing, driving the thief into scarlet. "I'm glad to see your tongue hasn't lost its edge. Now, you wanted to find me?"

"Oh yes," I tilted my head as I watched Francesco limp on his way. "Are we going to talk out in the open, or..."

He smiled, "By all means. Follow me- I've been located in a rather charming little inn to the southwest of here..."

* * *

My impression of the inn was not flattering. Simple, creaking, tasteless furniture, cheap ale, very shady characters behind all tables. I was greeted with suspicious looks at first, but as soon as they saw who I was accompanying, everyone lost their interests in violence. A few even sent me evaluating glances and winks, though I ignored them. Truth was that the underworld had much more tolerances towards women like me. After all, they were men of simple tastes. A pretty figure and a show of character, and they didn't care that my face was a little marred.

I think that is why I would always prefer the thieves and mercenaries to all other classes. Even peasants wanted perfectly normal, obedient wives to bring them healthy children. And I was used to receiving looks of contempt from all ladies, outside of allied courtesans. Sure, some of the courtesans (the newer ones, usually) were brainwashed by the society they lived in, feeling sorry for me, despite the fact that I didn't care for how I looked. Some even thought themselves more beautiful than me, and they were right. But the majority of them were committed to our goals, if only because it gave them the freedom to ply their trade. So, much like the thieves and mercenaries, their company superseded the ordinary citizens. Not to mention, in my case, it really wasn't my face that made friends. Besides, we had Adelaide for eye candy persuasion. I was just there for the fighting.

"Can you explain why you and your thieves refuse to speak to Machiavelli?" I finally asked when I dropped into the seat opposite of La Volpe in the table furthest from the front entrance, but closest to the back exit. I noticed a few men stood up from their tables, and casually stood between us and the rest of the inn.

At Niccolo's name, all laughter disappeared from the Fox's face. He even seemed angry for a second. "Has he sent you to try to and get my thieves help?"

"No. I came on my own accord," I crossed my arms. "We have almost no allies in Roma. Not to mention I can't get a decent set of lock picks anywhere else... But Machiavelli has little to do with this."

His face lifted slightly, though his eyes still stared with mistrust. "Considering your condition-"

"Do not start on my conditions," I flashed my eyes.

He put his hands up in a calming gesture. "Look, Eden, at this inn, La Volpe Addornentata, _you_ and your family are always welcome to visit. But I'm afraid that I am not going to play right into that traitor's hands and you can tell Ezio that."

"What am I, a courier pigeon?" I snorted. "First you make me chase down some thief who hasn't even learned to run away from crazy ladies properly yet, and now you're openly telling me to shove it?"

"Eden, I meant no offense, but I hold firm on the decision," he gently told me, patting my shoulder. "Machiavelli is a traitor to our cause, and I will not help any of his plans."

"Can you at least explain why you think that he is a traitor?"

"He left Monteriggioni just before the attack, did he not?"

"Coincidence. He was also the one to meet me after the said attack, while I was half fucking naked and exhausted beyond belief, and Ezio was unconscious from his wounds. He was also the one that told me to keep away from all towns on my way to Roma. I don't know if this fits into your story in any way, but he saved both our lives."

"And yet, I can see doubt in your eyes. You don't trust him completely, either?"

"I-" Dammit, he caught me there. "There are...holes in his story, I admit, but that is not enough for such accusations. Maybe he wanted to avoid the very same suspicion that you are telling me of now."

"Or perhaps he is not telling you everything because he has something to hide."

"No, that cannot be it- I would have known. Ezio would have definitely spotted some sort of false note."

"Would you now?" La Volpe raised his eyebrows.

"Yes," I spoke with confidence. Eagle Vision became a constantly underlying enhancer of our senses. Ezio, who had known it since childhood, more so. If Niccolo had switched allegiance, he would have caught him back at the villa, before the attack.

"It is true that your and your husband's bloodlines give you special...senses?" the way that La Volpe fleetingly grinned and flashed his violet eyes made me slightly suspicious all of a sudden. I'd heard the stories going around about the Master Thief, though I hardly believed them. Was there more to him that he let on…? "But is it not possible that someone would figure out what it reacts to? Perhaps Machiavelli has shielded himself from your instincts?"

Before I could open my mouth to stubbornly reply that there was no way Eagle Vision could have been fooled, I suddenly set my jaw again, deflating. "If that is true, we are waist deep. And not in water..."

"You rely on familiar talents far too much. You have to step up your game. Eden, I can tell you are not as convinced of his innocence as you claim. Keep your eyes peeled- after all, you are closer to him now."

"Yes, first it's keeping an eye on him, then it's shifting through his desk and mail, and next you'll be telling me to figure out what he says between the sheets, too," I rolled my yes skeptically. At La Volpe's thoughtful stare, I nearly jumped up with irritation. "_No._"

"Not even for the sake of the Greater Good?" he mischievously asked.

"I will tattoo a templar cross on my forehead before I even consider it," I dropped, cutting the conversation as though with a knife. Sadly, La Volpe sometimes just got too carried away with his jokes.

"Well, it was only a suggestion. I mean, you are much more trustworthy than a hired courtesan, and-"

"Don't even. If you hadn't forgotten, I'm married."

"I never forget a thing, dear Eden," he smirked, "But you're living in an age where such things are not only quite common, but almost required. It's a wonder Ezio and you stayed faithful to each other that long, in any case-"

I think the ale finally hit my stomach, because I suddenly broke out laughing. "That is ridiculous. I am not about to cheat on him just to stay within the social norms."

"Isn't that sweet. Are you so sure?"

"Careful, there, Volpe, you're coming off a bit strong," I grinned, now completely sure the entire conversation was a joke. He chuckled.

"I am at least three times your age, you realize?"

I stuck my tongue out at him, and then sighed, leaning back. A suddenly bitter feeling entered my mind, and my humor diminished slightly. "I don't know about three times...I am definitely not twenty anymore. Mind you, I am still in shape, but..."

"Don't hang your nose," he grinned. "Like I said, I am much older than you. You aren't saying _I'm_ old, are you?"

"You, old? Wouldn't dream of it," I laughed. "You know, some days I wonder if you're even human."

"You listen to gossip, Eden?" His tone was suddenly serious, and he turned his head toward the window.

"Not really. Though someone did tell me that I should start."

"That would be wise. Most things out on the streets these days- well, let me just say that the heralds have no need to exaggerate."

"Can't one of you please tell me what is going on?"

"Your friend, Leonardo. You haven't heard from him in a while, correct?"

"What the hell does he have to do with anything?"

La Volpe only sighed. "Come with me. I will show you something."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- **Yes, I know what you're all thinking: "Finally, Elly has decided to get off her ass and do some work. About goddamn time."

And I realize this chapter is shorter than usual, which is mostly because I wanted an interlude into the actual story without having to repeat the game's script. I promise I'll try to fill in most of the gaps in the next few chapters.

Anyway, amidst technical difficulties, load of Biology, a cart full of Psych, and dashes of biased and patriotism-inspiring political science course that makes me want to break something, we're hopefully back on track.

Besides, I have a good excuse for everything.

Eden backs me up on it, too. Well, took a moment of convincing, but she's cool with it.

Here's some proof: http: / / lionpawheart . tumblr . com /post/4972486064/eden-ships-destiel

* * *

I stood silently in the middle of the tavern floor, my fingers already on the hilts of my blades, waiting.

I really _should_ have known it was an ambush.

A tricky one, too, I noted with a small bite to my lip. They blocked all entrances, coming from all sides and surrounding me almost too expertly. I didn't like it in the slightest.

One glance at the stunned barkeeper told me that he was not a part of it. None of the other customers were either, as they all nearly dropped their tankards in surprise at seeing the city guard crawl into the room.

"I thought this was a bit too convenient," I muttered to myself, counting the soldiers with my eyes. "Fifty gold coins for some unimportant head when there are thousands on mine? Heh..."

Five. Niccolo was right, they didn't have groups larger than that. Even in its current shape, a city the size of Roma, required its forces spread fairly thin, no matter their numbers. Not to mention Cesare still had an ongoing campaign throughout Italia that drew away most of his resources. Good for me, not so fortunate for the guards. Almost sad, really. If they just all broke down the front door, my seat would have been cooling by the time they got a chance to look around. Which meant they would walk away. But now, I had little choice.

What surprised me slightly was that the man that hired me to take care of his "business problem" was dragged in tow by the guards. They were likely making sure that this was a real tip off, but I was almost thankful that they spared me the trouble of chasing him down myself to get back my compensation.

"That's her- the bitch that killed the captain," one of the guards nodded to the others. I made an offended grimace.

"Darling, you should have been thankful that you didn't join him back then, and left it well enough alone. But for that comment, I'll rip your throat out."

"You're bluff-"

"Sure I am," I rolled my eyes. I was not about to approach them, throwing knives made my point just as effectively as claws, which I sadly lacked. Well, not all of us got to be wolves, despite our nature... "_Bluffing_. Ha! Very well, you got me 'cornered'. Now what? You're going to wave your little sticks around at me? Tell me, have you ever actually used them in a real fight, or have you spent most your days poking them into haystacks in search of thieves?"

No one replied to me. There was a muffled yelp as my employer was dropped to the ground, and then they all raised their blades. I cocked my head to the side, and pulled out my own without any real intention to use it. I was really not impressed by their numbers. Only four, when Ezio and me have worked through small battalions, which made these deaths sort of unfair. But after all my years, I was not one to ponder the technicalities of my job. It's easier to sleep that way.

I stood still for a moment, allowing them to approach me a bit closer. Just as they came within sword's length, I jumped onto the top of the long table at its far side. The leverage worked, and the startled piece of furniture rose like a wild stallion, knocking one of the men on the chin. I caught the flying bottle, and smashed it on another guard's head, kicking him in the stomach away from me.

The few patrons still sitting in their seats either dived for the door and windows or slid under their tables. The guards suddenly halted, slowing backing up and taking a more careful approach. Curiously, they stayed silent, not taunting me or boasting of their prowess. But that still didn't make them any less stupid. Assassins were jacks of many trades, including finishing enemies at a distance. There was a reason why the best of us lived through all situations into our late years.

"Sorry for the damage," I muttered to the barkeep on my way out the back door, where I saw my employer dive just moments previous. "There's gold in their pockets." The man nodded with familiarity, which told me this was not his first time getting rid of bodies. I didn't hang around to help though, flying out onto the backstreet a second later.

He tried to run.

How silly of him.

Purposely hurling a throwing knife so that it would only nick him on the shoulder rather than outright killing him did its job. Squealing, he froze and turned around, another mistake. By then, I was easily on top of him, kicking out and landing a blow to the back of his knees. As it sent him careening forward onto the cobblestones with a painful thud, I put my boot on his back. Taking my time to pick up my knife from the ground and sheath it, I sighed, "You really thought that five guards could take care of me? And here I was told that I was not underestimated in Roma…I'm not sure whether to be thrilled or insulted."

"Don't- don't kill me!" he whimpered, recognizing my voice. He was a pathetic sight, I noted with a frown. Terrified of me. Fear... hm, it was as good a weapon as any, and I already found out that we would have to adapt a dirtier arsenal to extend any sort of influence in the city.

"Why on earth would I kill you?" I shrugged, withdrawing my dagger. Deftly spinning it around on my fingers, I made sure he saw the flash of it in the dim light of the torches from the street. "I mean, I know why you did it. Hell, I probably would have done the same in your spot. After all, you've got your lovely wife and children to care for..." I tested waters, my voice almost sickeningly sweet. He immediately stopped struggling. We stayed like that in silence, the dark softly enveloping the alley where the moonlight didn't reach. He heard the underlying threat in my voice, as clearly as I intended it.

I felt slightly guilty for meaninglessly threatening kids, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

After a moment, he whispered, "Don't- don't harm them. Kill me- but don't touch them..."

I smiled to myself with a rising sense of relief, putting away my blade. I bent down, and ripped his pouch of money from his belt. "Good answer. But if you lead more guards to that tavern, or ever try to bring harm on me or any other assassin, I won't think twice." I began walking away, already counting the money I got. Then I remembered something, and turned around for another moment. The man was still there, only twisting his head to watch my retreat. His eyes were wide with confusion or fear, I couldn't really tell.

"Oh, and spread the word to those who still haven't rolled over to die. It's your free will we are defending, despite the hellish welcome we get, what with being chased around like rabid wolves." I turned away again, and couldn't help the cold grimace that settled on my face. "I just wish you would get that through your heads. After all, for how long are we going to do good deeds without question or reward, and still be considered the bad guys?"

I don't really know why I said that out loud, but perhaps it was something that had been bothering me for a while. I asked Ezio the question before, so long ago that I didn't even remember the exact wording. But after we killed so many tyrants, prevented so many conspiracies, saved countless innocent lives, we still received only fear. Wouldn't it be nice for the citizens to cooperate every once in a while? Hell, maybe even donate a bit of gold? God knew the hideout needed softer beds...

I climbed into the warehouse quietly, through the only unboarded window of Niccolo's office. All lights were out, though I had no problems with seeing. Not that there was much to see, just a locked drawing table and scarce furniture. As far as I knew, Machiavelli didn't even spend most of his nights here, which meant I could confidently use the window as my main entrance.

I tiredly rubbed my forehead, and walked out of the room, into the hallway. Without sparing my own bedroom a glance, I went straight downstairs, pulling the newly acquired materials out of my bag as I went.

Niccolo was sitting in one of the old armchairs in from on the fire, seemingly deep in thought. He held a glass of wine with both hands occasionally bringing it to his lips, but I don't think the amount of liquid diminished at all. He seemed exhausted, if anything. I caught sight of a slightly worried grimace that went away the second he noticed me, settling back into his usual cold expression.

"Had a good night?" he asked without looking up at me. There was no tension in the air between us, so I guessed he was simply too tired to remind himself of what I shouted to his face in earlier that morning.

"Better than some. And don't tell me you were up with your papers all day again."

"No. Meeting your husband, actually, which is just as exhausting. The man is even more stubborn than you."

"Yes, it comes with the job description. Trust me, you're no better…wait, he's here?" my voice was renewed with expectation, despite the wave of sleepiness rolling over me.

"I don't know. He left a few hours ago, but he may have come back already. Was there something you wanted?"

"I got a map of the city."

Niccolo glanced up at the scroll of considerable size in my hands and raised his eyebrows. Then stretched out his hand, taking it from me. Flipping it open, he looked closely to the inked lines on it.

"Where did you find a map that size and quality?" His expression was still inscrutable, yet I swear I heard the surprise dancing around the edges of his voice. "I thought that there were no cartographers outside the Vatican at the moment. Aside from the docks, but they can hardly even draw a straight line."

"Oh, a little bit of sneaking here and there, but you really don't want to know the details," I shrugged with a grin. "Come on, let's put that huge table to use."

The "huge table" stood square in the middle of the room from before I showed up on Tiber Island. Before, it was always empty, but considering the situation, it was convenient for a map room.

"I also did all of us a huge favor and located the Thieves Guild. Sadly, they wouldn't agree with me, despite my best efforts."

"You actually managed to find it?" Niccolo raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, it is right about..." I popped the pin I got earlier from my pocket, finding the southwestern corner of the city and sinking the thin needle through the little cluster of houses, "Here. The Sleeping Fox Inn. Filled with shady characters, who by the looks on their faces and the knives they drew at me as soon as I entered, did not like company."

Telling Niccolo exactly who ran the guild and why he wouldn't talk to us wasn't a very smart idea, I decided right after I left the inn. There was no telling how he would react to something like that, and more tension was the last thing we needed at this moment.

"_Bene_," Niccolo nodded. "Hand me some of those pins...right here is where the brothel, the Rosa in Fiore is. Ezio said he would try to reason with the Madam first thing in the morning."

"Oh, I visited there to check the place out. The girl slammed the door on my nose, though," I added with distaste. "So I climbed in through a window along the second floor. Disgusting place, I almost choked on the smell. I really have no idea why you hold the place in regard, it is crowded, but I'm sure there is a better place elsewhere in Roma. Caught sight of Madam Salari. You were right about that, nasty woman. I'll cut my working arm off if she isn't selling our secrets to the Templars, the vibe I got off of her..." I gave out an exaggerated shudder.

"You think so?" Niccolo hummed, though lacking surprise. I guess he already suspected as much. "What did she say?"

"Oh, she yelled and screamed at one of the girls for having to take a day off because of illness, so I decided not to get between the woman and her so-called 'property.' I tried getting into her papers, but she nearly caught me and I had to get out of there. Shame, too, as this is about the time I'd suggest finding some dirt on her that we can use, or else she will prance off again into the arms of the Borgia. Better yet, we should take her into a dark corner and begin searching for a more suitable candidate to the post."

"Do _you_ know how to run a brothel?" he pointedly looked up at me.

"I don't even know how to run a candy shop. My understanding of business doesn't go beyond the simple transactions of my job," I shrugged. "But I hoped you would have better contacts."

"I know very few trustworthy women who might fit the position. Perhaps some old acquaintances."

"Don't suppose Paola or Teodora would-

"Both of them are grounded in Firenze and Venice, and we cannot ask them to leave the positions."

"Then I have no idea. But the Madam isn't the only issue with the Rosa in Fiore; at least half the girls are playing for the wrong team, and the rest are... well, broken, for a lack of a better term. There are _some_ very nice girls there. One even allowed me to hide in her room while the Madam walked past. Sweet girl, though she won't be able to be a courtesan for much longer. Then again, we could use her as a biological weapon, I'm sure that would be original," I trailed off.

Niccolo threw his head up to look at me with curiosity, "What do you mean?"

"Syphilis. Or as you call it here, the New Disease. I remember our mutual friend Cesare had spots like that on him, too, so I guess it's really getting around. The Madam must really not care for her establishment. Er, just heads up in case you ever want a cheap girl for the night."

Niccolo briefly smiled, looking down to the map again. "That is very unlikely."

"Whatever you say." I couldn't helping chuckling at his response. "But my point is, if we really want to get the brothel to be useful, there's a hell of a clean up job to do. Maybe Adel would know how to proceed, she was the one that read up on everything she could get her hands on. But her running the Rosa is about as likely as you." I suddenly remembered something. "Erm. There might be trouble later. My client decided the money on my head outweighed common sense. They'll probably bump the price up, now that they're sure I've survived. But I gave a good enough of a show, so next time, no one will babble-"

"Or at the very least bring twice as many guards." Niccolo sighed, rubbing his temples forcefully like a parent whose child just admitted to stashing dead birds under the loose floorboards. "Eden-"

"Yes, yes, you told me so, and I accept full responsibility for my actions. Just please do not lecture me again," I pleaded. "Look, it's no big deal, I'm sure I wasn't followed. Now, will you tell me what happened with the letter you were trying to intercept?"

"It's been for nothing. Another code, and now Vincenzo has lost his position so I will have to find a new spy."

I demanded quickly to see the cipher, but the block of numbers told me absolutely nothing. Altair couldn't come up with any connection, either. His presence was usually almost too convenient, as he was much smarter than me in a lot of aspects. Codes and cipher was one, and he helped me break quite a few on intercepted letters. But this time, I felt only his phantom shrug as he muttered something about a key and a one-time cipher.

"Maybe Leonardo could-" I suddenly caught off, and let out a groan, dropping my head into my hand as though I just suddenly got hit by a monstrous headache. Niccolo looked up at me sharply, as though going by the heart wrenching sound, I have at the very least caught a bullet with my spine.

"What is it?" Then he must have realized what was going through my head. "I suppose you followed my advice, then."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I wrinkled my nose, "Hearing from a herald that da'Vinci's war machines will be demonstrated to the citizens in a few months is not a good way to find something like this out. He was my friend."

"I realize."

"How the hell am I supposed to break something like that to Ezio?"

Niccolo looked slightly uncomfortable, like he really didn't care, but for some reason didn't want to say that to my face. "He will find out himself, sooner or later."

"Yes, he will," I grumbled, "Of course he will. And when he does, it won't be pretty, and I really don't want to be there at that moment. But something tells me I don't get a choice."

"He would like to hear it from you, rather than someone else," Niccolo suggested, and I nodded in agreement. "But I have to ask…will he be able to do it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Eden, those war machines are no irrelevant thing. They will easily turn the tides of battle in Cesare's favor. Which means-"

"If you're asking me whether or not Ezio can kill Leonardo, then stop beating around the bush," I snapped, nearly growling. "Sympathy really doesn't suit you, so stop trying."

He didn't even flinch or show in any way that my words had any affect. He just raised a questioning eyebrow. I sighed.

"I don't know." _And I really, REALLY don't want to even contemplate it, should we discover that our dearest friend is a true traitor, _I mused, my stomach churning at the mere thought. _There has to be an explanation…_"But not until he has solid evidence of a betrayal will we strike. Ezio is not one for meaningless deaths, you know that. Especially not his friends."

I had said the exact same words to La Volpe when he asked me the question. Though back then I pointedly glared at him, showing that I was still not buying Niccolo's treachery. I found it a little amusing that the two were so similar despite the sudden distrust.

I suddenly yawned, and couldn't help bringing it into a small stretch. "Well, I'm exhausted. I'll go get a few hours of sleep, I still have some work to do in the morning. You should rest, too."

"I think I can decide that for myself."

"Suit yourself, but the bed is more comfortable than the desk to pass out on."

He didn't respond to that, just waving me off like an annoying fly.

Before I left, though, I suddenly turned back around. "Did you know that Cesare isn't in Roma?"

"Of course. Considering the display when the guards at the southern gates said their goodbyes to him, all of the city knows he is away."

"Do you know when he will get back?"

"Why would I know that?" He raised his eyes to me with slight confusion and suspicion. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"I was just asking."

I wasn't sure whether or not to believe La Volpe. What he said struck a cord of doubt, and now I really wasn't sure how to act on it. But I decided that if Niccolo was truly selling our secrets out, then we would not be sleeping comfortably (or as comfortable as one could on the rock hard beds) in the hideout. I saw no personal reasons for suspicion; the guy was a jerk and a politician, but he was one one of us and had not done anything but help.

Then again, some parts of it were...questionable.

I climbed up the stairs in a sleepy haze, my eyes already closing by themselves. But when I entered the room, I quickly realized that I would have to stay awake just for a bit longer.

The room was a mess. Right under my feet, heavy white robes pooled, a bit to the side there lay a pile of metal that gleamed in the faint light from the window. The shirt was thrown over the frame of the bed, and muddy boots lazily toppled over to the side on the floor. Amidst the mess and crooked sheets, lay Ezio, like a sacrificial virgin in wait of the dragon. Except virgins probably had a little less chest hair, and likely didn't snore that loudly.

As though hearing my mocking thoughts, he stirred, and squinted into the darkness.

"Is it morning?" he mumbled quietly and with surprising cheerfulness, as though he thought it was just another day in Monteriggioni.

"Middle of the night, actually," I replied gently, coming over to the bed, and sitting down.

"Come here, then," he gestured, opening his arms and nearly demanding it.

"Are you going to yell at me?" I snorted, hanging back.

"No."

"In the morning?"

He chuckled, "No."

"Before or after angry sex?"

"Tempting," I saw the flash of his amused expression in the dim light, "But still no." His voice was still hoarse and sleepy, but very certain. "Just...come here."

I obliged, quickly sliding out of my robes and kicking off my boots. Speedily unlacing my doublet, I climbed up onto the bed beside him, my hand sliding over to his chest, where he caught it with his. I settled down into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. As he placed a small kiss into my hair, I closed my eyes, feeling familiar content and easy happiness in my stomach. It came out of my mouth as a small relieved sound, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. I didn't even care that my tears were leaving a mess along his warm skin.

"I missed you."

"Of course, _bella mia._"

"Sometimes, I get the feeling you are the only one that keeps this world from falling to pieces. So don't die again, okay?"

"Mmhm."

Pressing a kiss to my forehead, he slowly worked his way downward, brushing his lips across my eyelids, my nose, along each cheek. And finally, he pressed his mouth to mine. I eagerly returned the kiss, withdrawing only to pull my tunic over my head and toss it to the floor. Within record time, he unlaced my bodice, nearly ripping apart the stays. Sitting up, I pulled off my trousers, leaving me in my chemise. Lying down beside him again, my eyes focused on the gash of the scar across the shoulder, where he'd been shot back at Monteriggioni. Fresh and white, it stood out in pale contrast along his bronzed skin. A stark reminder of our current mission in Rome.

"Seriously, no dying, _si?_" I sighed with relief as I rolled over, cradling him against me. Ezio didn't reply, but his smile and practiced hands traveling under my chemise as I kissed him again told me all I need to know.

Leonardo could wait. Hell, the whole damned world could wait.

* * *

Days went by. Then weeks. We were both working hard. Separately, trying to cover more ground. All objections to my enthusiastic involvement died once it was clear that my stomach was not growing. After that, no one ever mentioned it. I don't know if it was out of simple politeness, or because they though me a walking powder keg, ready to blow at any moment, but I heard no word from anyone about my health, feelings, or general state of mind, something I was eternally grateful for.

I also have no idea what Ezio said to La Volpe, but the thief began dropping by the hideout, bringing interesting information. The tension between him and Niccolo was thick, and he usually spoke only to Ezio or me. But at least he was acting civilized, which made life a bit easier. It also made matters significantly better for all of us once the thieves were back in the cause.

Claudia arrived to Roma shortly after us and took over the brothel once Madam Salari was killed by slavers in an incident that I couldn't feel bad for. Considering I was thinking of staging an accident myself to prevent any more leaked information, I felt that this was a turn for the better. Ezio was not happy with the arrangement, but even he couldn't deny that Claudia worked wonders on the place. She ran the business much more smoothly, renovating and rebuilding, and we had our results in nearly record times as both profit and gossip flooded in.

Bartolomeo occasionally sent short messages of the situation with the French. The fight, thanks to Ezio's efforts, was turned more in favor of the mercenaries. They had men to spare for our purposes, and overall the guilds began to flourish.

The rest of us worked with our own details, for information without which, we could not move on. And once we have established outselves in Roma, however, it still took a few months for things to start happening on a grander scale of things. And the first thing that turned our collective attention was the Feast of Saint John that was held at the end of June.

Cesare had come back to Roma.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Wow. Holy crap. I just find out that even after nearly breaking my brain with three of the most demanding courses in the history of my life, I'm still probably going to do summer school because I didn't take enough classes to graduate next year. Oh well, art schools don't care as long as I don't fail anything and the scholarship is still in the bag.

Er, or you know, here's a chapter.

* * *

"Months," I muttered, massaging the sides of my head against the growing migraine, "Of sitting in this hideout."

"You haven't," Adelaide muttered somewhat crossly. The grinding of the rock against her dagger only made my headache worse, despite the fact that the sound usually calmed me down. "You were out there, catching small fish."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I furrowed my eyebrows, glancing up at her with surprise. She was sitting in the new armchair beside the fireplace, sharpening her weapon with slightly more enthusiasm than usual.

"Small fish," she shrugged, "Merchants, guards and robbers. It's much like when a master painter is forced to draw drawings of children with a piece of cheap raw charcoal. It's insulting," she snorted, rolling her eyes.

I wasn't very surprised that she felt that way about my side contracts. She always did have a high opinion of my skills- well, mine and Ezio's. It wasn't too shocking considering the way she grew up, all but placing us on a pedestal and sacrificing cats. But ever since she made her way to Roma a few days ago, her patience was on an even shorter leash than before.

"You're completely right," I flicked at the map marker with two fingers, propping up my head with my other hand. "What I wouldn't give for a proper contract. It just hasn't been any fun lately. Go here, kill that guy. It's really a waste of my creativity and spare time..."

"Then why do you bother? You should find some aristocrat. I'll bet they have plenty of interesting jobs. Besides, are there really not enough Templars in the world?"

I sourly looked up to the window that was only recently freed from boards. The sunset painted the opposite wall red, giving the room a warm glow. The place looked much better than when we first arrived. The new furniture and tapestries really gave it a more welcoming look, and it felt more like a home than a passing hideout. It was reason enough for me to spend the nights here, now, versus just camping out wherever convenient, especially while out on a job.

"I can't. Not yet, anyway."

"Why? Because Machiavelli and Ezio said so? And their word is law now? We've been working for months, like you said, and it feels as though we are not moving anywhere," she curled her lip with derision, voice getting higher and higher. "So I say it doesn't matter, and this situation cannot possibly get any worse."

"We could be dead," I barely nodded, though I narrowed my eyes in warning._ Something else is bothering you,_ I mused, _But you're using this minor situation to pick a bigger fight, and I'm not falling for it._"Or in the dungeons. So no, as much I'd love to try the limits, we need Cesare taken care of first. I don't want to compromise this hideout so early on."

"Is that why I have been stuck inside since I arrived to Rome?"

"_Stuck_? As far as I remember, no one is chaining you to the wall!" I furrowed my eyebrows. "And since when are you so eager to get into the frying pan? Do I need to make you repeat the Creed again so you'd remember why it's a bad idea?"

"Bad idea? What's so terrible about wanting to finally do something about this damned city?" Adel grumbled, eyes flashing as she tested the blade on her thumb.

"What's bothering you?" I finally asked out right.

"You mean, besides the fact that in all this time we still have no useful information or a way into the Castello?"

"Yes. You're never this short with me. Something is wrong."

"It's all good," she snapped, "Perfect. At least, according to you," she sneered.

I threw my head up in shock, but at that exact moment, Bartolomeo barged into the room. I gave an involuntary wince- I was used to all Assassins having a light, almost soundless footsteps. But Bartolomeo was as good as a bear in that sense.

"What are you two doing here?" he roared, a few chords above his usual level, which was already enough to blow one's eardrums out. I pointedly stuck my small finger in my ear, and wiggled it around.

"Barto, how pleasant to see you haven't lost your voice yet."

"You! Still alive?" he accusingly pointed, though he was smiling. Well, at least _someone_ in the room was in a good mood…"I would have thought someone would have gotten tired of your voice by now!"

"Your humor continues to amaze with its wit," I muttered dryly, ignoring the amused look that Adel sent us. "You saw me not two weeks ago. I beat your death count in that skirmish with the French, too."

"You cheated!"

"Of course I did," I rolled my eyes. "It, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that you can't count beyond ten."

"I got fifteen, and then you started stealing my fights!"

"Oh, so you can count!" I threw my hands up in the air in mock excitement, "How wonderful! Seems like Pantaselea managed to teach you something! Good to hear!"

"Lose the tongue, girl," he warned me, seeing an insult in a compliment. I liked Pantaselea, quite a bit in fact. Despite obviously being of this time, she had zero intention of being held prisoner to the expectations of what "real" women were and were not allowed to do. And surprisingly, Bartolomeo didn't seem to mind that in the slightest. So I had no intention of insulting her personally. But Barto didn't appreciate anything that even remotely resembled a pass at his wife. Under different circumstance, I would've laughed at the sweetness of it all…maybe.

"Hey, hey, now, my tongue is my best feature," I put my hands up in a peacemaking gesture. Bartolomeo burst into laughter, and after a moment, I realized what I just said, letting out a small laugh with a roll of my eyes at his immaturity. Adel glanced between us with confusion that was absolutely adorable, her previous mood apparently forgotten. "And why wouldn't we be here? It is a holiday, after all, and I'm getting ready for the evening...celebrations."

"Didn't take you as the celebrating kind!"

The fact that I stopped drinking the strong stuff was something Ezio enforced with all enthusiasm. So soon, the entire Order knew that tempting me would be punishable by- well, not death, simply a very long and tiring lecture from Claudia after which you just wanted to hang yourself on the nearest tree in shame. Not all of them understood why on earth I would give up drinking, considering they didn't know the whole story behind my alcoholism in the first place. But these new habits stuck over the last decade.

"That really depends on what is being served," I grinned, finishing up the last drops remaining in my glass.

"What, ale is no longer good for you? What are you drinking, anyway? Cider?" He made a face that showed just how low his opinion on the weak drink was.

"Dearest Bartolomeo," I patiently began, as though speaking to a very slow child. "Sweaty, bulky and drunk men hitting on me, and then trying to pick a fight, only to end up on the floor with the humiliating experience of being beaten down by a woman? Not something I consider a good time. But chaos, panic, cut off heads in the fountain and a screaming maid covered in blood? Now that's my type of party."

"You sneaky wench, always stirring those nobles," he clucked his tongue in disagreement, "Where's the fun in that when there is real battle out there?"

"Oh, I know. And I am thanking the gods that I don't have to get in the middle of it. Being a sneaky wench and stabbing people in the back has never exactly been overrated," I curled my lip slightly, revealing my teeth in a smirk. "Now, you were here for something?"

"What? Oh. They're holding bull-fighting tournaments out in the Antico district."

I shared confused glances with Adel. "And we should care why, exactly?"

"Oh!" Adelaide suddenly beat Bartolomeo's explanation. "I've heard talk, the main event is Cesare's fight. Supposed to be a big deal, heavily guarded and everything."

"Exactly, so get off your rears and lets go!" The mercenary impatiently barreled through the door, nearly taking out the frame with him.

Adel and I shared a look of amusement and shrugged, getting up to follow after him.

* * *

Summer in Rome was hot and even more angry than the other seasons. The guards were still forced to patrol the streets while slowly cooking in their armor, and that made them more aggressive to the world. When they weren't angrily arguing between each other, they oppressed the citizens worse than ever. Merchants weren't happy with the treatment and the loss of costumers, while the civilians were simply terrified. Even the nobles were having a hard time trying to pull off their poker faces while covered in layers of expensive and heavy fabric. I didn't envy them one bit.

The Assassins were not happy at the moment either, though for different reasons. While the guards proved to be nothing but irritating nuisances, they did slow down the rebuilding of the faction buildings, and asked awkward questions we weren't yet able to efficiently silence with coin. Mostly, we tried to lay low and work without attracting attention to ourselves. Which was proven to be hard with everything considered. There were a lot of factors to keep track of, and even a small slip up could upset everything we managed to build up so far. Essentially, there was no stability in the order just yet, and that made us all a bit tense.

As the weeks passed, all was quiet, like the calm before the storm. Neither the thieves, courtesans nor the mercenaries managed to uncover any information. The Borgia remained elusive to us despite our best efforts. The guild buildings were almost completed, though not operating on their full efficiency just quite yet. Perhaps our lack of success was mostly due to the fact that Cesare was not in Roma, making him all that much harder to predict.

But eventually, he came back, which meant that we were finally close to the end.

Bullfighting was not really something I personally enjoyed, feeling sorry for the poor animals. But the fact that we got to simply sit and watch for once instead of trying to crash the event made it a welcome break for everyone. The point of this was mostly to see the situation, figure out who the Pope surrounded himself with, try to get new leads.

What the others didn't know, however, was that I was sorely missing my sniper rifle.

"What is he trying to accomplish?" Adelaide raised her eyebrows, watching the set up below. "One would think he'd be a bit more careful with his public appearances."

"Displaying his power, I'm guessing," I replied to her from where I was resting against the wall with my legs crossed.

"When it comes down to it, impressing nobles is easy enough with wealth and social savvy, but common folk are more responsive to shows of strength," La Volpe put in with a slightly bored tone.

Niccolo made a noise of agreement from my side. He was not in his place up on the rooftops with us, especially in the heat of the Roman summer, but he made no complaints. At least, not out loud. He did, however, "selflessly" allow us the sunny side of the stadium, while seating himself in the shadow of the tower beside us. I did not like the arrangement too much, so I threatened to push him off the wall while trying to get a spot in the shade, as well. He looked skeptical, but moved over.

"Is there any way to actually get close to them?" Ezio wondered, his eyes scanning over the makeshift arena. Guards made a tight perimeter around it, and archers patrolled from the rooftops. We had to get rid of two just so we could take our seats in the audience without any further disturbances.

"Doubt it," I muttered, clicking through possibilities in my head. "I'd say our chances would be two percent. The only way through would be to slaughter everyone on the field. Besides, you smell that?"

He tried. "No. Everything seems normal. Are you catching something?"

"A rather familiar little scent, reminds me of the kennels I passed working my way through the apartments in the Vatican. You get my drift?"

"Ah."

The mood darkened by a few more shades. There was an uncomfortable itch on my shoulder from where a Hell Hound once grazed me. The scars that remained were deep and were close to rendering my muscle useless.

"Then losses are more likely, not to mention we'll turn an assassination into a bloodbath," the Fox sided with me. "For now, all we can do is watch."

Ezio didn't look too pleased, but he realized as much as anyone that trying to get down below would be suicide at the moment.

La Volpe suddenly leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Strange. Considering everything, I didn't think Alexander would actually show in person."

"Did he?"

"Look..."

We did. I even adjusted to Eagle Vision, though it was not necessary. The man could be seen perfectly fine from the distance, along with his daughter. I recognized him right away, with the additional feeling of deep-seated hatred that I could not move on from. The girl, on the other hand, was someone I'd seen before, but didn't take notice of because my eyes were trained on her brother as he held a gun to Mario's head.

My first proper impression of Lucrezia was that not flattering. I always had a certain tick against women with looks more akin to a perfect marble statue, rather than an actual human being. High posture, beautiful face, tempting bodies, rich clothing, and of course, most of her cleavage exposed. Surrounded by a dozen body guards, the sole intention was to say "Look, but touch at your own expense". Lucrezia distinctly reminded me of Adel's mother, from whom she inherited the noble pride, blond hair and bright blue eyes. But where Adel's hair was styled in golden curls, Lucrezia's was nearly silvery and stick straight, skimming down her shoulder blades artfully, as though there was an invisible maid beside her constantly taking a brush to it. All of her was richly decorated, including her jewelry, her gold and ruby earrings alone making my old kleptomaniac instincts flare. At the same time, so did my alarm bells, telling quite obviously that anyone who tried to get anywhere near her would be eating the ground before they could even count the guards.

"So that's what dear Rodrigo has been spending his money on," I snorted with contempt. "It's a wonder he still has any florins to throw at Cesare."

"It's the year of Jubilee," Niccolo reminded me.

"You really think I know what that means?" I raised my eyebrows. Everyone around me looked around in shock. "What? Think I'm keeping up with important dates for the church? Sorry, I have better things to do."

"The Jubilee is the year when the pilgrims come to Roma to pray and try to buy their way into heaven. It fills the Pope's coffers quickly enough," Ezio explained.

"Figures the Church would make up something like that. How convenient," I grimaced. Niccolo nodded in agreement, Ezio narrowing his eyes and letting out a muttered curse of nearly silent agreement as the rest just looked thoughtful.

"Alexander doesn't look happy," Adel noted, cocking her head to the side. Her eyes were characteristically wide as she took in the scene with mild curiosity and interest.

"Neither does Cesare," I continued the thought, "I'm guessing the two aren't very fond of each other."

"Cesare only keeps his father alive as a guarantee for funds and power," Machiavelli mused. "But you're right, he's been gaining more and more independence from the Pope. His attack on Monteriggioni shows as much."

"And how are you so well informed?" La Volpe raised his eyebrows, something distinctly hostile in his expression. Thanks to Ezio, he acted civil around the politician, but still tried to catch him on something to prove that he was a traitor. I wasn't sure if Niccolo was oblivious to such treatment or simply pretending, but the air was fairly cold between the two.

"It is logical, my friend. After his defeat-" Niccolo glared at Ezio as he said that, and I knew that the term that he really wanted to be able to use was 'death,' "-he has become as quiet as a mouse in his hole. He barely does anything but throw celebrations and spend money. It is unlikely that he would have ordered the attack, for he knows from experience that that would only serve to bring attention back to him. And he also knew that given a second time, even Ezio wouldn't spare him."

"So it must have been Cesare's decision to attack the villa," I supported him, "And I guess he was trying to do the same thing as today- display his superiority. But..."

"He's acting a bit..." Adel twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers, her voice slightly uncertain, as though she was trying to word her thoughts properly. "It was not a tactically good move, was it? He couldn't have possibly expected all of the Order concentrated in Monteriggioni. Either he is not as well informed of us as he'd like to believe, or he wanted war."

Just as she said that, the event started.

Cesare, showing off, made a lazy, confident circle on his horse, and loudly proclaimed a speech that sent the audience into divided frenzies. Not all cheered, and not all those who did showed much enthusiasm. Still, his voice charmed the people. The amount of guards in the place could have helped out, as well...

"Friends! People of Roma!-"

Once that began, I immediately tuned out his preaching, more interesting in probing around his defenses. I was left disappointed; there were little openings, and the ones that existed were covered by the gunmen patrolling the roofs. Biting my lip, I focused back on Cesare just as they let out the first bull.

The lancers on bare horses were let out first to deal with the bull. All dressed in Borgia colors, all looking as though their job in the arena was close to an angel appointed by God himself. I felt slight distaste towards the sport, as the lancers stabbed and weakened the bull, making him stagger slightly and let out furious snorts. They strapped some sort of barbed wires its neck, too, and only then, Cesare walked in front of the bull, armed with a red sheet on one hand, and a sword in the other.

It continued like this. One after another, the bulls were brought in, beaten, and finally, killed by Cesare. The crowd went wild with each display, roaring with approval as the animals died. Meanwhile, our collective mood was getting worse and worse.

Display or not, but there was no denying Cesare's strength and grace. One of the bulls was cleanly decapitated by Cesare's blade after it blindly charged at him. How he managed to keep his own arm after that blow, I didn't understand, but the animal collapsed, and his head rolled behind him...

Seven bulls, I realized. And the man looked only mildly tired. He had enough strength to push another speech to the crowds, and after throwing his father a cold look, disappeared into the tents.

"This is disgusting," I finally declared, shuddering in spite of myself, and the fact I'd killed many a man. "What kind of fight is that? Or is the whole torturing the animals bit symbolic of what he's doing to Roma?"

"No, that is just the way the Spanish like to fight their bulls," La Volpe assured me, getting up from the tiles. "Well, as nice as this was, we all have work to do. I will be going now."

"Yeah, me too, I have a very important meeting," I climbed up the wall of the tower into vertical position, and quickly pecked my husband's lips in goodbye.

"With a client?"

"Working on a day like this? Come now, _caro_, the birds are chirping and the sun is shining! Who wants to die on a day like this?" I threw up a hand. "Nah, I'm going to go see my secret lover, and spend the rest of the day taking long walks in the park with him," I grinned at him, my voice sweetly sarcastic.

He laughed, even as he quickly wound an arm about my waist. I admit, the mild gesture of possessiveness immediately brightened my day, "As if anyone in the city could possibly be worthy of your attention."

"Oh, so you don't think you're worthy?" I retorted, purposefully relacing the ties of his outer robe, and letting my fingers linger.

"I'm a different story," he confidently smirked.

"Yes, you are," I agreed easily, leaning in to place another kiss on his lips, this one not so fleeting. With Ezio, it was always pleasant to have some sort of human contact to look forward to at the end of the day. Though I did find myself sleeping somewhere completely alone for couple nights at a time, due to work.

"Can you two at least stop flirting when we are in public?"

I stuck my tongue out at Niccolo. "You really shouldn't take out the fact that you can't get any yourself out on us. No one else seems to have a problem with it."

That was true, strictly speaking. Adel was used to it, but many of the others averted their eyes, hiding smiles or frowns, while others openly grinned and sent us suggestive smirks. A few simply didn't care.

Niccolo, however, was truly invincible to my attacks. His expression did not change in the slightest. "How you manage to get any work done in between your displays of affection is beyond me."

"That's not all that's beyond you," I parried with a lighthearted laugh, "But you're right, I still have to go. I'll see you back at the hideout?"

There was slight doubt in Ezio's eyes, but he nodded with a slight smile.

Lies. I wasn't planning on coming back to the hideout tonight. And he knew that. Which was why he wouldn't be waiting. But in with our current situation, it was simply easier for both of us to pretend. And neither was unhappy with the arrangement.

* * *

"Working hard?" I cheerfully chirped as I fluidly slid through the open window. Claudia didn't even look up from the papers, the pause in the creaking of the quill was the only indication that she acknowledged my presence. "You know, considering you're been working over books over the past- well, too many years, I would have never figured that you'd jump right back them."

"What choice do I have left?" her voice was low and stony. I sighed, leaning onto the desk behind her.

"Claudia-"

"Eden, just- don't. I've heard it," she snapped, and I put my hands up in a peace-keeping gesture.

"Come on, their bodies were not in the town, you've seen for yourself. Neither Paolo or Federico were there, so there is still a chance that-"

"No, there isn't," her voice was so bitter that I winced. "There isn't anything but a fool's hope. I don't want to talk about it. Alright? Let's please just focus on business. I'm fine."

I made a skeptical grimace, my hand reaching down into the bottom drawer and bringing up the bottle to my eyes. "Wow. Let me guess, all the nicer vintages in the cellar are for something more interesting than paperwork? This cheap wine isn't very good for battling depression, you will only make it worse."

"Speaking from experience?" She said it with a bit more sting than I would have liked, but I let it go. I couldn't blame her for any of it.

"Yes. Definitely from experience. Very, very unfortunate experience that I wrote off as me being young and naive enough to believe that alcohol will get rid of all my problems. But to tell the truth, I never expected you to turn to it, especially considering you didn't the first time."

"That was then," she took the bottle away from me, but didn't drink, "This is now. Look, I know what you're trying to do, but it will not work like it did with Ezio. I need time. So lets just... not talk about it anymore. Did you get the lists?"

"Right here," I reached into my bag, and put it down on the table in front of her, "As agreed, all three of the parties. Guest and caterer lists, along with guard patrol routes. And because I am so amazing, I also lifted the keys to the kitchen of the Barniclini estate for you."

"This is good," she nodded, taking the papers into one hand, and beginning to tap the fingers of the other on the desk. I stayed quiet, looking around the room with slight interest.

The brothel was doing very well since Claudia took over. The first thing she did was hire workers to fix and repaint the outer walls, which made a much more pleasant impression than the worn out and dusted bricks that used to stand there, lazily and insufficiently camouflaged my faded streamers. Before the construction was even completed, all the courtesans were checked out by a doctor to see which girls could continue their work. Those that were infected were treated, and those that couldn't be completely cured were found other places in the building. Not all were happy with the new order, but no one left.

The door opened suddenly, snapping our attention to it. Maria gracefully walked through it, holding her hands folded in front of her. Following her were two girls, one of which was the girl that I took such fondness of on my very first visit. Even after the declaration of the doctor and the few weeks spent bedridden, she refused to leave the Rosa, claiming that she had nowhere else to go and nothing else to work for. As far as I knew, though, Claudia still hadn't come up for a spot to put her.

The other was a courtesan that I'd never spoken to before. Her black hair was tied back into a rather interesting and almost impossibly complicated knot, leaving much of her hair to fall down in curling locks on her shoulders. The dress was made from expensive material, and instead of being barefooted like nearly every other prostitute I'd ever seen on the streets, her long, tanned legs were woven with silk ribbons that kept in place the tall heel of her shoes. Claudia could afford such dress for her girls now- the brothel was making nearly record profits under her guidance, and it was meant to bring in Cardinals and Senators, for which certain things had to be upgraded. Like how the courtesans now looked more like fine ladies than half-starved and abused girls. Everyone liked that particular change.

"Claudia- Ah, Eden, welcome," Maria smiled at me. "I trust everything is alright?"

"Are there going to be guards drumming on the door within the next few moment?" I raised my eyebrows, and her smile widened. "No, everything is as right as rain. For the moment, anyway."

In all the years that she was in shock, I always somehow imagined Maria to be a stern and proper noble woman. But she had a much richer personality than I expected. Rational and kind, though with quite a bit of backbone. Ever since she came to, I had a feeling of deep respect towards her, and she seemed to be fond of my sarcastic commentary. I had the strangest feeling that it reminded her of the time when Ezio was a hotheaded and lighthearted teenager running around rooftops with his brother.

"What was that crash I heard a few minutes ago?" Claudia asked, eyes shifting from the two young girls. "Valeria?"

The courtesan hesitated, and Maria cut in. "It is nothing to worry about. Just a bit of trouble with one of the clients."

"It's Solari's brother again, isn't it?" my sister-in-law glanced at their expressions, and sighed. "Either that man is incapable of getting it through his head that I am not going to give this place up for him to ruin, or-"

"Or he has a death wish, which I would be all too happy to grant him," I offered helpfully. Claudia looked at me as though she was seriously considering it, but shook her head.

"No, I can deal with him."

"Oh, alright. Is there anything else I can help with? I have the rest of the day off and you know how much I enjoy being idle."

"Can you come up with placements for the girls?"

"Sure. The kitchen."

It was a joke, actually, residue of my modern humor. But Claudia's face suddenly brightened. "Anna, can you cook?"

The girl with syphilis looked slightly startled. "Yes- yes, I can."

"Good. Then your first assignment is to stock the kitchen."

"Where the hell have you been keeping food before?" I raised my eyebrows with slight surprise.

"Nowhere- I mean, aside from the refreshments for the clients. There is a tavern not far from here that I usually eat at, and the girls know how to survive. Besides, with all the renovations and business, I sort of lost track of the most basic things," Claudia shrugged. I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering since when Claudia missed small details, considering that she ran an entire fortress for years and did a pretty damn good job at it. "But a kitchen would make things easier."

She started writing something, and Maria addressed me suddenly. "Eden, I've noticed that you haven't taken any money from the bank accounts."

"What?" I looked at her with confusion. "Oh- I sort of forgot."

"You forgot?" She raised an eyebrow, her face amused.

"Well, I never really used bank accounts. Ezio usually took care of them, and I guess I just got used to relying on what I can earn at the moment instead of using saving funds. So yes, I forgot. Though now that I think about it, that would have made quite a few things easier."

"Ezio did take out some of it when he wanted to save Madam Solari. But once that fell through he put the money into this brothel, instead," Claudia informed me with a slightly sour expression.

"And you're unhappy about that why...?"

"Because they are still acting like little children," Maria cut in with a pointed tone, but truly maternal patience.

"I could have had this place up and running properly without any of his help, thank you very much," Claudia snapped, and so did her quill. She let out a small curse, throwing it into the trash, and mopping up the blotch of ink that began to spread on the parchment.

"You're still not talking?" I raised my eyebrows. I was almost unsurprised.

"There is nothing to talk about."

Maria didn't like that. "Claudia, he is your brother. He only wants-"

"What's best for me. Except he still can't get it through his thick skull that I can determine what's best for me just fine on my own."

"Totally," I agreed with her, smiling a little. "He'll come around, though. Then again, the stubbornness does sort of run in the family..."

"Which side are you _on_?" I finally achieved the desired result- Claudia smiled. Though it was more confused than anything, it was still nice to see.

"Yours," I didn't hesitate with my answer. "You are completely right. You can take care of yourself, and you do not need him to look out for you all the time."

"Good," she said with satisfaction, "I'm glad you see sense despite him being your husband."

"Whoever said that a woman should have the exact same opinion as her spouse never took women like me into account," I snorted, "As if a wedding band can change me that easily. Look, I'm on your side of the fence, but you have to admit, you not talking to each other properly after months is sort of-"

"Like what you do when you give him the silent treatment?"

"Once," I raised a finger. "And I forgave him pretty quickly."

"Well, considering that I do not have the option for make-up sex, I'm afraid this is a bit more complicated." At my slightly shocked expression she smiled again. "What, did you expect me to run a brothel and not learn a few terms?"

"Okay, who are you, and where the hell is the noble-woman Claudia that hated alcohol and was furious when she heard that I ended up in bed with a man after a night of drinking? I'm appalled at your behavior, young lady! Simply shocked!" I pitched my voice, speaking with mock authority that got another smile out of her.

"Eden. Things change," she sighed, "Especially after..." She made a vague gesture and a grimace, glancing towards the drawer with the bottle in it.

I suddenly noticed that the only one in the room aside from us was Maria. The two girls disappeared, likely ushered out by her.

"That doesn't mean you should shut your brother out because he's being a tactless dick." I caught myself on the last word, suddenly realizing that Maria might not appreciate me using such terms, especially in reference to her son. But she was doing a fairly good show of having selective hearing, and only picked up on the first part. "And by the way, I resent your implication that I use sex as a way to break the ice. Because that is totally untrue."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, it's a little bit true," I admitted, "But I'm me. I don't deal with these things very well."

"Whoever said I'm using you as a role model, anyway? This is my decision, and until Ezio realizes that I am not a helpless girl who pines after her suitors anymore, and that I can actually survive on my own without getting kidnapped or killed, I will not do anything about this."

"Fine," I crossed my arms.

"Fine."

"So how about instead, we break out a better bottle? I'll even help you with paperwork."

"You hate paperwork," she reminded me.

"I'll make an exception for a few hours if it'll make you feel better," I bravely offered.

She actually let out a low laugh at that, grinning, "Liar. You won't last five minutes."

"I'll take you up on that bet."

"Fine. You last two hours reading through the papers and forging my signature, and I will talk to Ezio."

Of course she would have never made that bet if she thought I would actually last that long. I broke at exactly thirty minutes when my hand was beginning to cramp and the words about doggie tails (or was it dress tailors?) and balloons (That may or may not have actually been 'ball rooms'") were beginning to swim in from of my eyes and doing very funny little jigs.

Why did words swim, anyway? Who was the bastard that forced them to swim? They're made of ink, they should be melting.

_Poor words. Never stood a chance._

Okay, I also may of may not have fallen asleep.

* * *

I woke up to a loud scream, and sat up sharply. It took me a few moments to realize that I was still in the brothel, where screaming was not that uncommon.

Blinking and forcefully rubbing my eyes, I was luckily fully dressed and sleeping on top of the covers. Judging by the scenery outside the window, it was early morning and the sun already up. Wow, I must have really been tired. Carefully lying back down onto the impossibly soft and comfortable bed, I wondered what the hell I wanted to do today.

The only answer I could come up with was "Absolutely nothing."

There were always days when we just didn't want to move out of bed. Or anywhere. To just stay in the same spot, burrowing into the warmth of the sheets and throwing pillows at anyone who wanted to disturb us.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. That was partially attributed to the loud thumping in the next room (it's freaking morning, what clients?). Partially because I missed having Ezio lying next to me, pleasantly warming my side and evenly breathing into my hair.

Oh, and the whole deal with beginning the attack on the Castello now that Cesare was back. _It's important_, I had to remind myself, though at the moment, I didn't really care about my own movements and need for food, much less some attack.

After a bit of struggling with the soft mattress that refused to act as a support, I managed to get up. My feet bumped my boots that lay on the floor, and I wondered if Claudia took them off, or if she got one of the girls to do it. It didn't particularly matter, but I was curious as to who the carried me from her office into this place. My sister-in -law was strong (such skills seemed to run in admittedly talented Auditore bloodline, I learned long ago), but not quite so much that she could easily do something like that without dropping me a few times. And I was sure I would have remembered _that_.

The mystery was solved when I came downstairs, carefully avoiding the general public, and slipped immediately into the kitchen. Well, more like a cellar, really, where most of the wine was kept. But there was a corner that Claudia ignored up to that point. But this morning, Anna was already making use of the food she bought at the market the day before, the smell of pastries pleasantly tickling my nose.

The solution to the mystery of who dragged me to bed was sitting at the table, nursing a cup with coffee as though it was filled with liquid gold.

"There is absolutely no way I'm believing my eyes right now," I grinned with pleasant surprise.

"Madonna," he inclined his head, keeping a poker face, though I noticed the slight smile on his lips. "You're a lot more bearable when you're asleep, you know."

"I've been told," I sat opposite of him. "I gotta say, though, of all the people in Roma, you are probably the last person I expected to see here."

"And I was under the impression that you were back in Monteriggioni."

"That didn't work out so hot. Or, there was a lot of heat with the town burning, but you know..." I let the sentence trail off with a wave my hand. His expression didn't show much surprise, which meant he probably knew. Machiavelli did say the news was spreading. "But all in all, I could almost say I'm glad to see you again, James."

"I'm afraid I cannot return the sentiment, but so far I've got no complaints." His grin was surprisingly sly all of a sudden. "I don't suppose you're willing to let me hand you over and get that nice little sum over your head? Temporarily, of course."

"Any time. Though not today; as much as I'd like to be inside the Castello walls, I'd rather not be behind bars. Hey, Anna, any more coffee left?"

The steaming cup along with a plate of something resembling pancakes (as in, it looked good, but I wasn't sure if the round, flat bread could be considered that, at least not by modern sensibilities) was placed in front of me, and I gave her the most bright and grateful smile as I possibly could. I was definitely liking her more and more.

"So you've been in Roma all this time?" I asked with a mouthful of food.

"Not exactly," he shrugged. "I've actually been in Venice for the last month, and then Sienna for a week. We just got back."

"'We'?" I raised my eyebrows with sudden surprise. "A bounty?"

There was a loud, excited shriek from somewhere behind me, and for a long, confused moment I thought I was attacked by a cat. Then I realized that that was not the case, because at the same time as two long and elegant arms closed around me, a female voice began babbling into my ear.

"-I cannot believe this…I mean, I knew you were around but I thought you didn't like brothels, and-"

"Diana?" I craned my neck in disbelief. "Is that you?"

And sure enough, it was the courtesan that I'd last seen years ago at a carnival in Venice. She beamed at me over my shoulder, finally letting go.

"Your hair is even longer now!" she breathlessly said, taking the ends of my messy braid and twirling it through her fingers. "I swear, you never cut it! That's not healthy for it, you know, you should at least trim it every once in a while. Oh, I know this amazing barber, the things that man can do with hair, mmm! Talented fingers, and I mean that in more ways than one... Oh, don't look at me like that, I was off shift."

"Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" I finally cut in, though my surprise was very pleasant.

"Oh, well, we heard that you needed help with running a brothel, and I was already trying to get a place of my own, so I figured I'd come and help out a bit," Diana airily waved. "But Claudia took charge before I got here, and now I think that I simply like Roma better than Venice, so I'm staying."

"Uh-huh," I nodded slowly, then looking over to James, who was suddenly very engulfed with the black liquid in his cup. "And you're traveling together," I waved a finger between the two of them, "Why?"

"Oh, I hired him," she answered. "As a bodyguard."

"A _bodyguard?_"

"Yep."

"How do you two even know each other?" I was getting more and more confused.

"I was visiting some friends in Venice," he shrugged, "Some other 'old friends' showed up, and I was just a little bit less lucky than them."

"You still close your eyes before you leap, then?" I smirked, and he sent me a glare, though it looked only half-hearted.

"Oh, you should have seen him when we found him outside, he was a horrible mess! I thought he was dead at first, with all the blood on him, but then he started coughing, so we got him inside and called a doctor."

"It was not the worst condition I've been in, but I would have died pretty quickly without attention," James muttered without any sort of embarrassment in his voice. I thought, and not for the first time, that I really liked the way he grew up from the stuttering teenager. He was honest and calm, no longer letting taunts and his own mistakes to get to him. It was admirable. "It took me almost three weeks to get back on my feet. I offered Sister Teodora money for my keep, But she didn't take nearly as much I thought she would."

"Good woman," Diana agreed with a dimpling smile, speaking very fondly of the Madam.

"So wait, even after he was injured, you still thought he was a good escort?" I looked at Diana with surprise. Despite her exterior, I thought she had more sense than that.

"Well, not exactly. I mean, I was going to go to Roma alone, but he said he had to get there too, and I thought it would be a lot easier if we just went together. And I thought he'd be one of those proud, professional types that wouldn't travel with you unless you paid them, so I did."

"You saved my life, I didn't need any sort of payment," James grumbled, but there was still a note of fondness.

"Yet you still took it."

"And you wanted to get sidetracked by Sienna instead of heading straight here. So I think the money is well deserved, considering the number of stores I had to accompany you through."

"That was the worst part?" I asked with surprise.

"In comparison to the two groups of bandits and a small pack of wolves we encountered in the woods? Yes," he snorted, "Yes it was."

I laughed. And then suddenly asked, "Wait, Diana, you were going to travel alone? You realize how dangerous it is out there, right? I mean, I'm all for independence and self-reliance, don't get me wrong, but that's just reckless."

"Oh, right, you don't know." Diana suddenly looked almost awkward. "I sort of branched out."

"Excuse me? What, you're not a courtesan anymore?" That was definitely news.

"No, I still am- except, you know, not exactly."

"Okay, please, explain before my anticipation kills me."

"Well, I've been a whore for years," she counted on her fingers, "In fact, more than a decade now. It came to the point where I was directly under Teodora. I was getting rich, too," she motioned down to her dress. Taking a look at it, I realized that it was not a standard courtesan dress, not even what Claudia got for her girls. This one was red and black, made of such expensive silk and shot through with genuine gold thread- even some noblewomen couldn't afford that. Diana stayed with her habits, and her shoulders were completely bared to the world. But aside from that, the bodice was laced pretty high and the skirts full and sweeping, layered as any other woman of a high social station would be. Her shoes were tall, tightly fitted leather boots with frequent lacing, on a heel that I could not imagine walking on without getting stuck in the smallest cracks in the roads.

"So what, select clientele?" I took a guess, "Pick and choose, charge a thousand florin, that sort of deal?"

"Well, sort of. See, at that point, I didn't really need to continue. I could have easily gotten out, got married, or even opened my own brothel. But I didn't want to anymore. I guess I sort of... got used to the job, but I didn't see the point in continuing with the way I was. Then Teodora made a suggestion. You know, she's an Assassin and all that, so-"

"You're telling me you're one too, now?" I was really taken aback by that shock.

"In a way... I guess... I mean, sort of. But it's more like an assassin for hire than anything, I'm not officially part of your order." she shrugged, looking at me with blushing embarrassment, looking a little bit like an amateur pickpocket running into a master thief. "I'm rather good at my job, and there is a lot of call for something like that," she added as though in defense.

"Really." I wasn't sure how to react. "But I thought you wanted out. You said you-"

"That was then," she cut me off with a shrug. "Things change. I guess I lost my fantasies started seeing more from your point of view. I didn't want to be tied to some man anymore, or let anyone control me when I know that I can easily be the one in charge."

"So you became an assassin?"

"Hey, it pays more than whoring myself out for the hell of it," she spread her arms, "And you get used to it. It's sometimes fun, too, like I found this one poison that can kill the target hours after I left! You really don't know the satisfaction it brings, seeing this man abuse you and treat you like a common wench while knowing that soon he'd be choking on his own blood." Her green eyes seemed to almost glitter at her words, something I'd never seen in the admittedly flighty courtesan. And, I really wasn't sure whether I was fine with that or not.

"I never thought you would get a kick out of that," I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Like I said, times change," her voice dropped, becoming more serious. "At one point you realize that you have been playing by the rules for too long, and it's gotten you nowhere. Right James?" she looked over to the man. For the last few moments he was pointedly staring out the cellar window. But at her question, he sighed.

"As much as I hate this, I agree. There is a turning point for everyone," his gaze darted to her, his reaction similar to what I was thinking about her admission, "But only a few follow up on it."

"Like when you got sick of playing a farmer's son and decided to get something done by hunting down bounties?" I said that with a heavier tone than I had intended. "Or after our encounter when you finally decided to progress in your career of choice right rather than pulling stunts out of your ass?"

"Between those, yes," he bluntly dropped. "Also a few other presents of clarity from life, but I imagine you're no stranger to those, either."

"Wait, so you two know each other too?" Diana suddenly exclaimed.

"Um, yes, I thought that was obvious. What, did you think I chat up any male bodyguard that shows up in the brothel? Who do you take me for, really?" I mockingly asked. She blushed, but it looked like a habit rather actual embarrassment.

"James, you never mentioned you knew Eden!"

"And you never told me Sister Teodora was an assassin," he parried. "Not exactly our secrets to reveal, especially when it comes to their little order. Eden made sure that little lesson stuck."

"You're not still bitter over that incident, are you?" I wrinkled my nose. "Come now, so you tried to kill me, and so I held you off the roof of the church when you failed. These things happen. I practically forgot about you the next day after we tore your employer a new one."

"What if I managed to kill you? Would you hold a longer-lasting grudge then?" he said with almost surprising snarkiness.

"Honey, if you killed me then I would have readily moved onto the afterlife knowing that the money you got off my bounty was well-deserved," I replied with dignity. "And as far as I remember, you wanted to capture me to hold over Ezio. Which was one of the most insane and stupid plan I have ever heard."

"Yes, you made that...clear."

"You tried to kill Eden?" While I wasn't looking, Diana's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "And you walked away?"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," he sarcastically muttered. "Yes. Though to this day, I have no idea why the hell she let me go."

"If it didn't let you sleep at night, you could have just asked," I snorted. "Simply speaking, you were too incompetent and terrified of me to be anything but an innocent."

"Madonna, I was many things back then, and almost none of them good," he nearly groaned, "But I wasn't scared."

"Please, I can smell fear just as well as I can tell that Anna is using oregano in that meat she just put into the fire, and the fact that Diana really likes French perfumes, but she hasn't put any on for at least two days."

"That is incredibly creepy," Diana noted, but didn't disagree with me. "What else can you tell?" she added with sudden curiosity.

I sniffed the air. "Hm. The doctor beside the brothel is trying to pass off mint-flavored water as a tonic for weight-loss. Aside from that, just routine scents." I thought for a bit, and then added, "I don't like brothels because they mess up my sense of smell for a bit. But I seem to be getting used to it."

"Wow, you're like one of those hounds," she uttered with some awe.

"Well, in case I ever drop down on all fours and start sniffing corners, now you'll know why," I joked.

"Do you ever do that?"

"No."

James looked at me with a new expression. After a moment, I realized it was something between anger and contempt.

"What is it that makes you assassins so special?" he nearly hissed. I was honestly taken aback, and so was Diana. Even Anna looked over her shoulder with some surprise.

"Problem?" I asked coldly, remembering myself quickly.

"Jamie, don't get upset because that bandit got away," Diana suddenly stepped in, putting a hand on his arm.

"_'Jamie'_?" I asked incredulously. They ignored me.

"If I could do magic focus-pocus like _her_, I could have found their entire nest. Instead, I lost the trail, and those bastards are still out there, stealing, raping and murdering." He was trembling slightly. It seemed like I unknowingly touched a nerve.

Diana soothingly ran her fingers up his arm and into his hair. She was babbling some sort of words of comfort, and he seemed to be relaxing at her touch.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," he apologized to me, his voice still a bit stony.

"Are you two together?" I asked, narrowing my eyes with sudden realization. "I mean, like, _together_, together."

"What? No, no!" Diana shook her head with a smile. Her fingers faltered, though, and she moved away from James. If he felt the loss, he didn't show it. "But you know, after a bit of traveling with each other, people become friends."

"Right, I know. Because that is exactly how I fell for Ezio," I reminded her. "And besides, I would have figured-"

"Oh, I tried, of course," she waved her hand with an easy laugh, "But James is as stoic as a statue. With just as much experience with women. So no, no relations other than talking and cuddling. No angry, gentle or even comfort sex. That was a hint, if you didn't realize."

"How many times do we have to have this conversation?" James asked almost wearily.

"Yeah, yeah, you respect the hell out of me and you don't want to sleep with me just because I'm a courtesan and you're a man. But a woman has needs, you know! And you're very handsome, what with you manly scars and that muscular body..."

"I _so_ do not need to be here for this conversation," I cut in, my cheeks getting hot and beginning to edge towards the door. "Thanks for breakfast, Anna. Have you seen Claudia?"

"I think she was going to leave today," Diana suddenly said. "She's leaving me in charge for the day, that's mostly why I'm here instead of in that lovely little dress shop I saw on my way through the Vatican."

"More fabric?" James quietly groaned.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," Diana rolled her eyes.

The look on his face plainly said that he was not going to let her wander off alone into the Vatican, assassin profession and poison mastery be damned. But instead of voicing it, he turned back to me.

"Are you beginning to move?"

"I'm not sure I trust you enough to answer something like that," I narrowed my eyes slightly.

"Growing paranoid with your old age?" he smirked. That was not something that he did often now days, and I didn't like it.

"This old lady can still kick your ass five ways from Sunday, so watch your tongue."

"I meant no offense," he put his hands up, "I simply want to say that my offer still stands. I want the Borgia gone as much as the next person, and I'm willing to do some work for it."

"For how much?"

"About the amount on your head, perhaps."

"Since when are you so obsessed with money? I can understand back then, you had a family to feed and all that. But you said you didn't need money anymore."

"Everyone needs money," he replied seriously. "Almost everything is paid for with it. And life is so much easier when there are some florins in my pockets."

"Don't I know it," I snorted. "What makes you think we need your help, though?"

"I may know a few people, not to mention they know me. I can give you information on who's putting bounties on your heads, and you can take care of your business as long as I can take care of mine."

"That's actually not a bad offer," I said after a moment of thought. "So what, you want me to play dead fish so you can hand me over, get the money, and then casually slip my bindings off so I can kill them?"

"It worked very well a decade ago with Ezio, wouldn't you say?"

"Alright, deal. But later. Right now- well, yes, we are beginning to move. And there are a lot of things to take care of. So until it's over..."

"I will be here," he bowed his head in a surprisingly respectful gesture, "And good luck with whatever you're planning."

"Are you kidding? It's the Auditore family!" Diana laughed. "If they set their minds on something, it will happen. I think more luck is the last thing they need!"

"You always did have an inflated sense of our importance," I grinned somewhat modestly. Then I corrected myself, "But you're right, we're awesome. Or at least we used to be, but we must be getting a little rusty in our old age."

"Did James touch a nerve with that?" Diana chirped with more happiness than should be associated with an insulted friend.

"Not really, but I'd lay off all age-related jokes around Ezio. He gets defensive. It's not a pretty sight."

She laughed again, and then suddenly told me, "But I'm with James; if you ever need any help, give me a shout out. Free of charge, too, for old time's sake."

"What did I just say about the jokes?" I loudly complained, already walking out the door so they wouldn't catch sight of my wide grin.


	7. Chapter 7

The Tiber river flowed almost peacefully under the bridge, the morning sun glittering in the warm blue skies. Roma was drenched in a comfortable shade of red, lazily waking up as dawn arrived. The summer heat hasn't had the chance to warm the streets yet, the light wind playfully tugged at our clothes like an impatient child.

I shivered, bringing my cloak closely around myself.

Mornings were really not my time- too cold, too early, too empty and yet not deserted enough. Ezio didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, and Niccolo tried to appear the same. But I noticed him rubbing his hands together behind his back and couldn't help a small snicker. I replied to his irritated glare with a teeth-baring smirk, and he looked away, rolling his eyes a bit before thoughtfully taking in the lapping waves of the river.

I hid the next chuckle more carefully.

"Where's the opening you mentioned?" Ezio asked quietly, and I stepped up beside him so he'd see my gesture.

"They're replacing the fencing on the eastern courtyard. You'd have to get to it over the water and stay out of sight, but once you're in, there is almost a solid path up onto the walls. We can't risk a distraction here, but if you manage to get there without drawing attention, you're golden."

"Yes, of course. All that will remain is passing the internal courtyard, climbing up the walls, finding the Pope's family and killing them without anyone noticing," Ezio snorted.

"You forgot the legion of guards on the inside," I cheerfully supplied, "Though with the map Adel got from the guard captain, it's bound to be a little less fun. Though you know what would make it better?"

"You are not coming," he cut me off, "Not this time, there is simply no other way inside, even for you. And it would only slow us down."

"Yeah, yeah," I let out a heavy breath, grudgingly admitting that he was right. The Castello was a fortified castle, as opposed to the living quarters and monasteries that attached to the Basilica. And this time, unlike before the incident in the Vatican, I didn't have the gnawing feeling of danger and worry in my gut, so it was an easier sell. "I had to try, right?"

"Yes, you wouldn't be you if you didn't attempt to dive head first into every suicidal mission that comes along," he smiled. "Keep on a lookout, though, won't you?"

"No, I think I'll spend this time in some coffee shop eating cake," I rolled my eyes, ducking under his arm and pressing myself into his side. At first it was meant to be a simple hug in good luck and the routine please-don't-die ritual. But then I realized he was very warm, and decided to stay in the position for a minute longer. "Don't you worry your pretty head over this. If you're going in alone without yours truly, you may as well think about yourself."

"As heartwarming as this exchange is," Niccolo suddenly cut in, "I'm afraid you'll have to cut it short."

"I'll give you a hug too, if you'd like-"

"They are moving."

I looked around the near empty street and saw what he meant by that.

Lucrezia Borgia was back from her morning stroll. Though I wasn't sure how a ride in a lavishly decorated carriage this early in the morning could be considered a stroll, nor why she needed to make such an impression. A display like that was usually best suited for when there were a lot of people to gather so they could watch and cheer and throw rice, or whatever the hell it was they were supposed to do. And right now, who was supposed to bear witness? The farmers in the fields that got up before dawn, or the sleepy nobles that wouldn't get up for a few more hours?

Yet, despite the early hours of dawn, it was suddenly crowded. The guards systematically formed a semi-circle around the carriage as it stopped, their halberds on the ready.

The lady herself wasted no time in getting out, allowing only a few moments for the people to gather around. She looked strikingly different today than she did during the tournament. She wore an angry red velvet dress that exposed her cleavage to the point that was technically against the current regulations (I made it a point to keep up with the constantly changing "rules," as getting stopped in the middle of the street because my sleeves were too tight was becoming very annoying and time-consuming…and far too tempting for me to just go ahead and randomly kill guards who questioned me). Her hair was laid in carefully brushed, silky silver locks gathered by a very beautiful ruby and pearl headdress.

But the main difference was her expression, which was now triumphant and snobbish, so very unlike the stony, apathetic mask of nobility that she wore in the presence of her father.

I still didn't like her.

My rising aversion to her only grew when one of the guards yanked another person from the carriage, dragging the woman by the hair to dump her at Lucrezia's feet.

It was hard to recognize Caterina Sforza, as her hair lost a bit of its flaming red color under the grime, and her dress was plain brown, roughly cropped and ripped. But when the woman threw her head up to stare at Lucrezia with mocking defiance, somehow managing to look from above even on her knees, it made it abundantly clear who was the bigger person out of the two. I got the feeling that the only reason Lucrezia didn't flinch and yield under the stare was her own arrogance and sense of power…and the fact that Caterina was securely tied up.

Without thinking or having to turn towards him, I put a hand on Ezio's arm, feeling him aggressively lean forward to take in the sight.

"They are going to torture her," he grit.

"Settle down, Ezio, you're going in there to get her out," I reminded him quietly, "It won't do to lose your head now."

He didn't relax.

"He is going in there to kill the Borgia," Niccolo coldly interrupted, and I set my jaw, shooting him a glare.

"Priorities, Niccolo. Saving lives is more important than taking them."

"If you do not take these, more people will die. Caterina, in perspective, is not-"

I put my free hand around his mouth as fast as possible, stopping the next words before they could do any more damage.

"Shut up," I mouthed angrily, my gaze narrowed in sharp warning. I looked over to Ezio to see that his eyes were still trained on the carriage, thankful that he did not catch what I managed to intercept.

There was a brief moment of silence and thought between us, and the Ezio suddenly reasoned, "Caterina is a valuable ally. If we help her now when she's weak, she can return the favor one day."

Niccolo took my wrist, yanking my hand away. His grip caused a splash of pain that had me instinctively trying to get away. Though at the very least Ezio's words seemed to hit the nail on the head. "Perhaps- But kill the Borgia first."

Ezio nodded in agreement. Without turning again or even pausing for goodbye or good luck, he melted into the crowds.

"Why did you do that?" Niccolo snapped.

"Was it not obvious? To get you to shut up," I growled, rubbing my wrist. "Not all of us think of humans as expendable tools, Niccolo. Especially not Ezio."

"And you?"

"I'm-" I paused, and then furrowed my eyebrows, "Of course I'm not okay with it!"

"Could have fooled me."

_Ouch._ "Don't talk about what you don't understand," I hissed. "You think you're the first person I've encountered that thinks this way? The only real difference between you and La- him, is that you're on the good side, which is still in question. Besides, Caterina isn't some sort of sacrificial chess piece to be used-"

"Exactly, she's a player herself," he nodded, "And she knew perfectly well what was going to happen if Cesare captured her."

I opened my mouth, and suddenly realized I had nothing more to say. I slowly shut it again, and turned away, crossing my arms.

"That doesn't mean she should be abandoned as soon as her usefulness wears out," I replied somewhat lamely, "That would make us no better than the Borgia."

"This is a pointless argument," he concluded, "About a pointless subject."

"You're right," I suddenly smiled with fondness as I looked up to the Castello, "Because whatever you might have to say, Ezio would still do what he believes is right."

"Then why are we still discussing this?" he dismissively waved. "Tell me something else, if you know him so much better than I; will he get the job done properly this time?"

"You sound uncertain," I snorted. "Even though he knows that he cannot make this personal between him and Cesare, that bastard is still the reason for all the deaths at Monteriggioni. And this time, it's too fresh in his mind to let go. Hell, I'm damn near ready to storm the place myself and kill every guard that crosses my path just so I could pull that _bastardo's_ spine out through his throat and shove it back up his ass. So don't you worry your pretty little head about us; Cesare dug his own grave when he came to Monteriggioni. If I had my way, as soon as he set foot across the Tuscan border."

"I would have thought that Rodrigo dug his grave as well when he killed Ezio's family, and yet..."

"Look, I actually agree with you!" I sat down onto the bench with a huff of exasperation. "Hell, if I got the chance, I would have done it with the only hesitation serving as to draw out and enjoy the moment. And I'm sure you would too, along with half the freaking country."

"Then why didn't you?" he asked forcefully, "Why did you not stick a blade through the man's throat as soon as Ezio turned away? Why did you let your husband make you walk away from it?

"Don't talk as though you know what happened, or as if I _let _him do anything. As far as I can tell, you barely even stayed in Monteriggioni long enough to find out the details, and _now_ you're asking me? I'm not having this discussion, and sue me for trusting my husband, and for letting him be the better man."

Niccolo suddenly did what I never expected from him: he sat down on the bench beside me with a loud groan, holding his head in his hands. "You both are the most stubborn fools I have ever met…I've been talking to you for five minutes and I can already feel a headache."

"Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and then do all of us a favor and jump the hell off," I snapped. Oh, sure, _now_ I was beginning to worry. Though there were no warning banners hung out on the Castello yet, I was uneasy as I tried to find even a small white speck on the walls. It was a futile task, but at least it was something. "It's not your head on the deck. It's still the same old tale now as it was before- my husband is waltzing right into the heart of danger to serve the Greater Good while _you_ stand around whining about how he isn't doing it properly."

As soon as that was out of my mouth, I shut up, realizing just how unfair that was. Niccolo, however, didn't seem affected by it, though his eyes flashed coldly to mine. I rolled my eyes.

"Alright, I'm…sorry. It's just that I've had to listen to everyone bitch about someone else for the last few months, and frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. Ezio and Claudia are pissed at each other while Maria throws up her hands in the background, you keep insulting Ezio, Volpe is being difficult, Adel suddenly has something up her rear...The only one that really has any optimism left in this Brotherhood is Bartolomeo, and he's not much for making you guys work out your differences."

"This does not stop us from doing our jobs," he countered. His voice warmed about a third of a degree. "Perhaps you should stop trying to solve other people's problems, especially when they are capable of dealing with it themselves."

"I am not trying to solve anyone's problem," I grumbled, "I never have- if you have issues with Ezio, work it out with him. But considering how the talk is going, how long before we start clawing each other's faces off? Haven't you noticed how little trust there is between us? It's not going to lead anywhere good."

The majority of my headache came from the fact that La Volpe was close to hacking up Niccolo for treason, but I wasn't going to mention that out loud. The Thief trusted Ezio, but I didn't know how long that would stop him from acting on his own. And I really didn't want to see any more losses to the brotherhood. But there was a strange feeling of helplessness when it came to tense relations between other people. Especially two male assassins that didn't trust each other. Or even siblings that I would never get in between. Things worked, that much was true, but how long before everyone reached the end of their patience?

Somewhere above, Adel's eagle screeched.

"We should move from this spot," Niccolo suddenly said. I looked up at him, and then nodded; sitting in the exact same location from the beginning of the mission, in plain sight of the guards, was a very stupid idea, and I only just realized it when he spoke up.

"Is there anything I can actually _do_ right now?" I mumbled quietly, getting up and automatically latching myself onto his arm as we walked with the suddenly thick stream of the crowd to less conspicuous location. He glanced at our elbows sourly, but didn't comment. I was all for separating as well, considering his Frown of Eternal Pessimism was beginning to really get on my nerves, but I still had a bone to pick with him. And talking was easier when I didn't have to constantly try to catch up or slow down. "I feel absolutely useless. I should have gone with him."

"And ruined the entire mission that we've been planning for months? No, you are better off outside."

"Yeah, someone has to pull his ass out of the proverbial fire if they catch him," I snorted, somehow feeling slightly better. Not at the possibility of Ezio getting caught, but the fact that I could get him out, and- well, the little detail where I don't end up in a cell myself. I did not want to find out about Cesare's hospitality first hand. Nor did I want to be locked up in a small, stone-walled and barred room. The one time in Spain left an impression I wasn't going to forget in my lifetime, however much of it was left, considering the current circumstances.

It was almost strange, I never thought I'd get claustrophobic...

We turned into a side alley. As soon as there was breathing space, I let go of Niccolo's arm and took a step away, allowing him to take the lead. The place where we ended up had a perfect view of the Castello, yet was hidden from sight of the guards on the bridge. Feeling that there was nothing more to say to the man, I leaned onto the wall, crossed my arms, and stared intently at the grand structure across the river.

Five minutes. I was beginning to chew on my bottom lip, feeling a suddenly sharp stab of worry. I _should_ have gone with him. Just to make sure. Last time we went somewhere, if I wasn't there, Rodrigo was going to kill him for real, instead of forcing me to fake the gesture. Now, the entire family was in that place, and none of them were harmless sheep.

I tried to force my mind into a more optimistic direction. Ezio was going to handle it, considering he was not called the best of the order for nothing. I was only bitter that he got to have all the fun. Then again, there was still plenty of big fish in this fucked up and corrupted sea.

"There's a commotion," Niccolo suddenly stated, startling me out of the silence. He was right, the gates were opening.

"They're probably letting out a new patrol," I shrugged.

"Patrols change right before dawn," he countered, and my eyes flickered to the sun. Yeah, you couldn't mistake that with before dawn any way you put it.

"-is leaving for Urbino! _Buona fortuna, Padrone_!"

"Why, thank you for telling us where to send the spies, we would have gotten lost in the woods in the opposite direction if it weren't for you," I replied mockingly into empty air.

"_Merda!_" Niccolo suddenly swore.

"What? Oh, don't tell me-"

The answer came trotting along the bridge as all those who were on the street at the moment hurried to get out of the way. There was even some cheering, in the same tone as I heard at the bullfighting tournament. On a white horse, in a blood red cloak and brilliantly shining armor that reflected the hot sun, rode Cesare Borgia in person.

The same man that I watched put a bullet through Mario's head.

The hatred that rushed though my mind was nearly blinding. I ran before I could even think properly.

...And was jerked back immediately when Niccolo grasped my arm. The grip was unexpectedly strong, and wouldn't allow me to move even when I instinctively tried to twist my arm out of it.

"Settle down, Eden."

"I can get to him in time, there are almost no guards-"

"And do what, exactly? The guards will pull up as soon as Cesare is done making a scene."

"A throwing knife to the skull and this is all over!" I tried to get away again, though I knew that I wouldn't make it to the man in time, even if Niccolo changed his mind and let me go.

"If it were that easy, Cesare would have already been dead. Now calm down!"

"_Calm?" _I snarled, still vainly trying to yank from his grasp. "Niccolo, that's the man that destroyed our home and killed our family! You cannot possibly tell me to calm down-"

"Yes, I can, and I believe I just did," he snapped, "And if you stop to think for one moment, you would see the futility of your actions as well," he warned, his grip so tight, it would likely leave bruises. "If Cesare is out here, that means Ezio missed his chance. We will not get another strike at him until he comes home. But if Rodrigo is dead, that already solves half our problems."

"Yes, but we don't exactly have a shot at Rodrigo either, Ezio does. So why don't I go and-"

"He's gone already, and you're trying to barge in without any sort of plan. That will get you killed, doing nothing but putting more crippling grief on your family and shorten our ranks, which is the last thing we need right now."

I finally managed to wrench my arm out of his grip, but I didn't try to run after the target any more. He was right. It was pointless now; the best we could rely on was the hope that Ezio had things under control in the Castello.

"So what _can_ we do, exactly?" I asked him in my frustration, my patience running out.

"How do you feel about explosions?" Niccolo raised an eyebrow, looking towards the castle again, his voice thoughtful and irritatingly calm.

"Explosions?" I repeated with slight confusion, "Same as I feel for any domestic acts of terrorism on enemy territory. Fantastic. Why? What needs to be blown up?"

"I have an idea. And since you seem keen on keeping me within eyesight, I will let you help me."

"As if I ever ask for permission. And I'm simply keeping an eye on you. To ease certain concerns."

"Yes, well, you can continue doing that in silence as we walk over the bridge. And let us hope the attention Ezio has attracted is due to the Pope's body...but in any case, they will sound the alarms soon. We should give them a distraction."

"And you thought of explosions?" I raised my eyebrows, already moving towards the bridge, "I think I'm liking you more and more with every pleasant surprise."

"I'm glad you approve," he muttered dryly, joining the streams of those in the white and bright red cardinal's robes. I didn't bother trying to keep up with him, walking a few feet away, and soon we managed to get through the entire lengths of the bridge undetected, gone before a guard could glance at either of us twice.

"What's the plan, then?" I muttered to him once we made it past the bridge. When he didn't respond, I remembered that my voice, which was loud enough for Ezio, was far too low for his hearing. I didn't bother trying to repeat the words any louder, as Niccolo seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I decided to simply trust him for once, and not ask questions in such proximity to the Castello.

There was suddenly a wave of gasps, and the loud calling of horses. The next thing we knew, we were pushed into the Castle wall by the priests and cardinals who hurried to get out of the way of the horse that stormed past. I barely managed to push an old man away before he could squash me, just as another horse galloped by.

Flash of white.

I tried to let out a sigh of relief, but it got caught in my throat as soon as I realized that the city bells were ringing, and there was no way the guards could miss this daring escape.

Niccolo's hand grabbed my arm from out of nowhere, pulling me towards the Castello.

"Wait, should we-"

"Adelaide and La Volpe are nearby, they will help them handle it."

I nodded. A fleeting thought occurred to me that it was naive of Volpe to expect that he could escape the politician's notice. But before I could focus on it, I was pushing my way through crowds, following Niccolo towards the wide open doors to the Castello.

It took a brief moment to orientate in the front courtyard, but Niccolo seemed to know where to go. He hurried off behind the now half empty stables. There were piles of crates and barrels- supplies. From what I could read on the papers glued to them, the containers were mostly filled with ammunition and-

"Gunpowder! You, my friend, are a genius," I bluntly told him, watching as he pried the lid off of the barrel.

"Stand guard while I get this ready," he ordered.

"Use that rope to delay the effects, I'll untie the horses," I suggested, "No need for the animals to get hurt..."

"Do as you like, just make sure I am not seen, or I will not be so welcome inside the Castello from here on out," he ground out.

The two remaining horses were disappointed by the escape of their friends, and were a little too eager to be untied, pulling on the ropes and making it harder for me to untangle the knots. As soon as they felt some give, they shot off, leaving rope burn on my palms.

"You're welcome," I muttered acidly, rubbing at the skin, looking around the corner of the stable to check up on the progress. At that moment, Niccolo grabbed both of my arms and gave me a good shove towards the gates. I left the disgruntled snarling for later, and took the hint, working my legs away from the soon to blow gunpowder.

It went off when we were already out the gates. The explosion sent pieces of the stables and crates flying, the flaming wood thrown up into the sky before falling into a clutter of scorched pieces all over the courtyard. The remainder of the barrels blew up over the wall and into the water, the fire beautifully flashing and arcing above the walls. Niccolo hurried to join the running Cardinals as the guards yelled for retreat and ran in a panic towards the Castello.

I wasn't kidding when I said I liked explosions. Whether it was the destruction part or the flying fireballs that reminded me of fireworks, I wasn't quite sure. Not that mattered either way; I simply loved watching stuff get blow into bits.

But the impression was ruined by the freezing water of the Tiber that some damned priest shoved me into as he fled. And as much as I would have loved to just float and watch as the fire settled, I was suddenly sharply aware that my body didn't like cold. So I just gritted my teeth, sending curses in the priest's general direction as I began swimming towards the other shore line.

I tried very hard not to think about what the river was used for in Roma.

Behind me, I could hear frantic yelling. I took a wild guess that the horses that I untied had trampled over the first guards that tried to enter the courtyard, adding to the general chaos. I couldn't help the smug feeling of sadistic satisfaction.

Machiavelli, completely dry and calm, was standing beside the river bank, leaning onto the wall and staring across the river with a thoughtful expression. When I neared the stone foundation, he tilted his head to me. And then the bastard had the nerve to say "You really should watch your footing more carefully."

Unable to properly voice my indignation, I flipped him off. That got an amused chuckle out of him, which just further pissed me off.

"I'm going to swim in that direction, there's a dock there," I snapped up at him. "I am really not in the mood to climb up this wall while soaking wet."

"As you wish," he responded, his expression a stony poker face, but amusement evident in his voice. I spared him a dirty look, resisting the urge to climb up the wall only so I could grab his leg and fling him into the water as well. I had to make do with the vivid images in my mind and keep swimming onwards.

When I finally pulled myself up onto the dock I only felt worse, trembling violently as the wind chilled me further. I immediately set to work on removing unnecessary clothing, dumping water out of my boots and wringing my hair out. Machiavelli caught up, and handed me his dry cloak. I nodded in gratitude, wrapping it closely around myself, and tried to figure out how much damage was done to my bag.

"Ezio better appreciate this, because I most certainly am _not_ doing that again!" I growled under my breath just as I realized that I would have to replace half the content of my soaked bag.

"Actually, _I_ would appreciate it if you didn't tell him of this."

"For the love of- you think I could care less about your goddamn pride?" I asked with irritation. "You don't want me to tell him you saved our lives before, you don't want me to tell him that it was you who got him the new robes, and now you expect me to tell him that I simply slipped and fell into the Tiber on my own fucking accord?"

He simply raised an eyebrow. His way of dealing with my outbursts only pissed me off further.

"If you think for a second that if someone asks me why I am wet, I will tell them that some altar boy decided it would be funny to push me into the river, or say 'explosion? What explosion?' then you have another thing coming!"

"Are you done?" he asked. I felt the strongest urge to punch him in the face.

"I take back what I said earlier. Once I actually begin to like you, you remind me just why I've always thought you're sort of asshole."

"Your choice of vocabulary stuns with its wit. Come, let's get back to Isola Tiberina before you catch something."

"Aw, it's almost like you actually care," I pitched my voice mockingly, picking up my bag that I managed to hold on to only because it was strapped diagonally over my shoulder.

* * *

"Where have you been?" La Volpe barked at us Niccolo and me as we walked down the steps into the main hall of the hideout.

"Looking for Ezio," Machiavelli lied. I bit my lip, but didn't add anything. "So? What of the Borgia?"

The frown on Ezio's face said that the news were not as good as we would have liked to hope. "Cesare left before I had the chance to kill him, and Rodrigo was in another place entirely."

Niccolo shifted his eyebrows together in sincere disappointment. "How odd. Rodrigo should have been at the Castello at this time." Machiavelli commented, and then sighed, turning away. "What a waste... no offense," he threw in over his shoulder, addressing Caterina.

The Contessa actually seemed relatively okay. Or, at the very least, conscious. And well enough to ride over the bridge from the castle with flourish, so I figured things were not nearly as bad as we feared. Emilio, the doctor that recently set up shop on the island, was tending to her legs- the manacles left heavy bruises and tearing wounds on them.

"None taken," she retorted, barely paying attention to Machiavelli.

A moment of silence stretched, filled with Volpe's glaring and Niccolo's demonstrative disregard for it.

"Perhaps this opens another opportunity," Ezio suddenly said, his voice slightly wary. "While Cesare is away, I suggest we concentrate our efforts here, in Roma."

"I thought we had intended to strike now," Niccolo turned to him. I glared at him. Oh, so _I_ couldn't go after the bastard myself, but once Ezio was free to, suddenly it was a great idea? That's it, the moment I got to talk to Ezio alone, I was telling him every single detail of everything Niccolo didn't want him to know about.

"Hmph, impossible," Caterina responded, giving Machiavelli an expression like she was talking to a particularly stupid five year-old. _That's it, _I viciously thought, smirking and crossing my arms at Machivelli's surprised look at her quick reply, _Not so nice when you're on the receiving end of general contempt, now is it? _ "He commands a massive army," she waved, "I've seen it with my own eyes. You would never make it to him in one piece."

"That is why I say we should work here," I moved to stand behind Caterina, "We have a good start, the underworld is operating, and we have already began to root out the Borgia influence. We should continue. And start immediately."

"You speak as though you are the leader of the Order, yet no decision has been come to yet," Niccolo coldly stated.

"We don't have time to put it to an official vote," I intervened. "To do that we have to gather the Council, but the rest of us have their hands full in their own countries."

"You are not even a part of the Council, Eden, you can hardly-"

"I don't give a fuck for formalities and title, Machiavelli," I rolled my eyes. Just inside the corner of my vision, I could see Caterina smirking in agreement. "This is not some ladder of aristocracy, and I have good reasons to believe that my opinion counts here. But if you feel the need to be official, fine. Let's gather the proper Council, and decide on everything there. See if it makes you feel any better. But that will take weeks, time that we cannot afford."

To be perfectly honest, I wanted to be leader as much as a cat would like to wear a chicken suit. It was Ezio I was defending, though. If anyone, he had all the rights and reason to be the Sheriff in this town.

"There is no reason to argue over this now," Adel, who was silent up to that point, spoke up. Standing up from the chair she occupied on the opposite of the room, she solemnly declared, "We have no choice, and most of us trust Ezio."

La Volpe nodded. "I say Ezio has done more than enough to prove himself to be what this Order needs right now."

Machiavelli pressed his lips tightly together, but did not argue the point further. "So what do you propose, _Maestro_? Going after Cesare's resources or his army?"

Ezio made that decision in a split second. "I say we attack both. That is something we will have to discuss soon, but for now...Niccolo, Eden, come with me outside."

"Actually, I better go change," I grumbled, still irritated like a cat that was dumped into a barrel of water. Well, actually, exactly that. "Falling into the Tiber doesn't do good things to one's health."

Ezio raised an incredulous eyebrow, as though he had just noticed that I was soaking wet. "How did you manage to fall into the Tiber?"

I shot Niccolo a dark look. "Someone here thought it would be funny to push me into it."

_"Che cosa diavolo_?" Ezio looked at Niccolo, who was glaring back at me. The man must have realized that was the extent of what I was willing to say, and grudgingly nodded.

"It seemed an idea full of potential entertainment at the time." Even a troll would be able to pick up on the sarcasm that laced his voice.

"You're going on my 'to kill slowly" list,'" I warned him, turning away. As soon as I heard him and Ezio leave, though, I spoke again. "Emilio, Volpe, since all the 'big brave men' have ditched us, would you mind bringing Caterina up to my office upstairs? There is a bed there, and I'll be able to take care of her from now on." I glanced to the woman. "We only furnished recently, and it's not the most comfortable, but you'll have to excuse me for that."

"After a carriage out on the country roads and a prison cell with Lucrezia's hospitality, believe me when I say that I really don't mind," she gratefully smiled.

"Good, because the only other option is the floor," I laughed lowly.

Emilio looked me over with disapproval. "Madonna, you really should change, it is easy to catch something when you are wearing wet clothing."

"Don't I know it," I grumbled, already walking up the stairs to the bedroom.

Once I was finally in privacy, I quickly changed, taking great pleasure in peeling off the wet clothes and drying myself off.

Halfway through the process, La Volpe dropped into the room via the window.

"For crying out loud- you couldn't at least wait until I'm finish?" I hurried to pull the shirt down, hiding my stomach. He rightfully ignored my outburst. "Did you get Caterina into the room?"

"Yes."

"Then why can't you use the door?"

"You locked it," he shrugged. I decided not to ask why he didn't just knock, and got to the point.

"Do you need something?"

He did.

"Eden, where did you go when Ezio needed help getting away from the guards? I had to take the _Contessa_, and you were nowhere to be seen."

"So, what, now you will accuse me of conspiring with Machiavelli?" I raised my eyebrows, brushing through my hair. His hard stare said that yes, that was exactly what he was going to accuse me of. "This is getting out of hand, Volpe. Or are you just becoming paranoid with your old age like the rest of us?"

"Answer the question."

"We were setting up a distraction so that Ezio could get away from the Castello. Well, Niccolo was setting up a distraction, and I was distracting the guards from his distraction. There were horses involved. And swimming," I wrinkled my nose, "But I've been keeping an eye on him all morning, and he has done absolutely nothing suspicious."

"Aside from the fact that somehow Rodrigo was not in the Castello?"

I felt the sharp urge to bang my head onto the wall beside me. "Why would you say that?"

"Was Machiavelli here last night?" the Fox replied with his own question.

"...no. But he's gone for most days."

"Exactly."

I bit my cheek against the angry retort. "Coincidences. All of it. Niccolo is an ally. I wouldn't stretch it so much as to say 'friend', or that I trust him, but he saved both Ezio and me on a few occasions. Besides? You want to know what he does all the time? Because I _have_ been keeping a very close eye on him."

"Have you now?"

"Yes, I have. And let me see. Mondays and Fridays, he meets contacts and shifts through their information until he's sleep walking. Scary if you meet him in the hallways around three in the morning, believe me. Then Tuesday to Thursday, political intrigue and working for his front as an ambassador from Firenze. What's so suspicious? If anything, I'm stating to feel bad for the man, he's been working on a double edge for longer than I would have had the nerves and patience for."

"You haven't mentioned either Saturday or Sunday." He reminded me. He had been listening to my defensive rant with a lot more intensity and interest than I would have liked, leaning against the wall and arms crossed.

I gave him an icy glare, and then started speaking very slowly, as though talking to a five-year-old (it must have rubbed off from Caterina), "Breakfast at the inn. Bribes. Lunch. More bribes, and more letters. Visits of respect to the important politicians. And on Sunday," I slammed the doors of the wardrobe in frustration. "We play chess."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Well, I'm a crap player, so it's mostly him teaching me how to play," I shrugged. "What? No one works on Sundays. It's in the bible or something. And it can get awfully boring around here.

He let out a forceful sigh. "You have little proof to back any of it up, and he doesn't seem to want to share his schedule with any of us. And you-"

"I was with him while he disappeared, which somehow means that I'm working with him and covering up his tracks. Is that it? Well, I have two counters to that. First, believe me when I saw that Niccolo definitely does not need my help in covering up for anything. And second, have you completely forgotten that I'm Ezio's _wife_? Do you really think that I would betray him like this when I'm not even willing to cheat on him?"

Volpe didn't look like he believed me. He never did anymore. Or perhaps he never really did in the first place- my skills for convincing people ended where I had to put my knife. Even then, it seemed as though we usually just killed rather than interrogate. There was simply no point or desire to put other humans through excruciating pain for the sake of information that we could get through more subtle means.

Besides, it was always Ezio who played at diplomacy. He was the one with the charm and charisma people couldn't resist from the start.

"Look, believe me or don't. But at the very least don't stab people until you have solid proof of treason, okay?" I muttered warily, "And by solid, I mean, enough to convince Ezio."

Volpe inclined his head. "You should tend to the Contessa. She was saying something about feeling hungry."

And with that, he jumped out the window.

"Yep, he didn't believe me," I grumbled to the wardrobe. The wooden doors answered with sympathetic creaking from the air that entered the room, almost as though filling the space Volpe had vacated. I sighed, and walked out of the bedroom, heading towards the room on the floor below.

"You've really have moved up your ranks, haven't you?" Caterina greeted me almost cheerfully. She seemed in a much better mood, now that she was out of her cell. "You get your own office now?"

"As if anyone could stop me," I snorted in reply, "Most of the rooms are empty anyway, so I figured why _shouldn't_ I get an office?"

I claimed the room soon after Ezio joined us in the hideout. We were both coming back from various missions with scratches and wounds, so I began setting up my own corner where most of my medical supplies were kept. As the months went by, the room also became my workshop, and the shelves around the walls were beginning to get filled up with books and other scraps and souvenirs.

Most of the appeal the room had for me was the fact that it was completely _mine_. Not part of my husband's estate, not a temporarily rented room or a spare bedroom in someone else's palazzo or house. This room belonged to me. And it contained _my_ desk, _my_ shelves and books, and _my_ air.

And that felt strangely nice, to actually have something that felt permanent.

"I can't say I care much for your taste, but this is a good thing."

"What? The office?" I raised my eyebrows in slight surprise, starting to gather a few of my supplies.

"The hideout- the island. I'm sure the people here feel your presence. And that gives them hope," Caterina shrugged, carefully lying back onto the sole pillow.

"Hope? Yes, I suppose that's one thing to call it," I smiled, remembering my very first contract in Rome. "You want something for the pain?"

"That's quite alright."

"And when was the last time you ate, exactly?" I asked, quickly going over Emilio's work, and nodding with satisfaction. The bandages were wrapped a lot more neatly than I would have laid them, and the salve had a distinct minty scent to it.

"Yesterday."

"Let me guess, stale bread and water?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll get you something a bit more filling to eat. And a bath, too...wait." I exhaled sharply, suddenly realizing something. "Caterina- and please answer me honestly here, but did Cesare... erm..."

"Ezio asked me that too," she calmly noted.

"Of course he would. Cesare doesn't seem like the type to leave women alone- especially not such pretty ones."

"He isn't," she lowered her eyes slightly. I swallowed.

"So he did, then?"

"What makes you think so?"

"Call it female intuition- and solidarity."

She smiled bitterly. "Then you are slightly more observant than your husband."

"You told him that nothing happened?" I furrowed my eyebrows with slight surprise, keeping my voice low and calm despite the rage beginning to run through my veins, "Why?"

"He needed to keep a clear head. And some things are better if they are not worn on your sleeve," she solidly replied. "I told Ezio that my name still had some value...but none of it meant a fucking thing to Cesare," she breathed. "I was not certain that someone would believe me if I said otherwise."

"I suppose I'm glad he did," my hands clenched on the back of my chair. The thought of Eve, terrified and broken in my arms, made me want to hurt something. The idea of any woman going through that brought about a sense of helplessness and deep-seated fury. "You're taking this...almost too well."

"As well as I can," she shrugged, somehow managing to make the motion look elegant even in her current situation. "I am in politics, Eden. And I've had my share of husbands. Not all of them were gentle. And Cesare...if the situation was different, I could almost say he was good."

I couldn't help it- I gagged, shivering. "Right, that is something I really didn't have to hear."

"You asked," Caterina's expression had almost nothing to do with her calm voice, though. There was pain and despair there, somewhere in her eyes, something that she didn't let reflect on her face. Despite her words, it bothered and haunted her. Or perhaps it was the loss of her lands. Or the uncertainty of her childrens' fates. The woman had her share of problems, and I didn't believe for a second that she didn't come with her own barrel of trauma and issues just like the rest of us.

She didn't believe her own words at this moment. I knew the attitude and tone. It's the exact same one that I used when talking to my eighteen-year-old self, trying to convince the world that I didn't need anyone but myself, that I was even glad for everything that happened. But my dams broke regularly when I downed shots at the bars and lay in bed awake, shaking with anger or tears. I wondered if Caterina ever broke like that. I doubted it. She had firm control over herself and everything around her. And I envied that in her.

But on the other hand, I'd dealt with my issues. With help, but I moved on and was happy ever since it finished. But Caterina was not likely to ever burn her baggage. She'd carry it around with her for the rest of her life, carefully holding it behind the seductive smiles and foul language.

I cleared my throat. "I'll get you some food, then."


	8. Chapter 8

**-Stefano-**

To say the least, Stefano was not happy.

Oh, sure, it seemed like such a grand idea at the time- rebel against your own army, be claimed a traitor, come crawling back to Roma, hoping to outrace pursuit and messages, and then go from there.

But when you're stranded outside the gates, smothering road dust and ashes over your hair and emblems on your armor, the idiocy of the notion begins to catch up with you.

For the first time in days, the soldier was thinking, and thinking grim thoughts.

Where was he supposed to go, once inside the city? His family wouldn't take him back, not after his stunt with the whole treachery deal. It was better to forget his own surname at this point, as it would not do him any favors in the city.

Some ash got into his eye, and he cursed under his breath, but didn't dare try to get it out with his muddy hands. He probably looked enough like a poor mercenary at this point to slip in with the crowds coming into the city for the night, if the guards didn't look too closely.

And to think, at one point, he could have marched right up to them and yelled at them until they wet their codpieces, even getting paid for it.

Now, he was reduced to smothering his wonderful and amazing hair with ash, _on purpose_, simply to avoid any sort of recognizable traits. Blond hair was fairly common, yet not enough not to warrant, at the very least, a second glance.

He slouched, too, making his step wider and more sloppy than his usual sharp march and ruining his pristine posture. That was all he could do, so there was no reason to prolong the ordeal any longer.

He stepped out onto the dirt road, joining the slow stream of people leading up to the Northern gates. The further he walked, the more nervous he was starting to get. To distract himself from making any fatal mistakes, he started listening to the conversations around him. Those were few and quiet, but people were people; they all got bored of simply walking like aimless cattle eventually.

"Cesare took most of the army with him. Perhaps it won't be so bad."

"I have family there, they lost their home to those guards. I tell you, it doesn't matter how many there are, if they have sharp weapons, they take advantage."

" And what can we do? They have swords and armor and training, we have nothing but gray hair and rags."

"…I heard the assassins are back."

"_I _heard that Cesare burned them all out, killed every last one and everyone that tried to protect them."

Stefano couldn't help a quiet snort and a faint flicker of hope. Everyone heard tales of the Assassins in white and their work in north Italy, and it wasn't a secret (not for the lack of trying on the Borgia's behalf) that they broke into the Basilica and nearly murdered the Pope before fighting their way through a legion's worth of men to get out.

Some said there was only one assassin, and others said there was an entire underground organization. No matter, whoever he or they were, apparently they actively worked to overthrow the government. Stefano didn't know which version to believe. But all came to the conclusion that if the assassins decided to go up and arbitrarily build a base in your city, you better be on the right side of it.

Most soldiers laughed mockingly when passing the story around the campfires. But the funny thing was, they slept with knives under their pillows and didn't look too hard when they were on watch duty. Not that anyone blamed them for it…

"Did you fight your way through Cesare's army or somethin'?" Stef was snapped out of his thoughts by the jarring voice. He mentally cursed himself for missing the gates' approach. "Why you all torn up, eh?"

The last thing he needed was more attention, so he replied, "Ran into some resistance- erm, bandit raid."

The man narrowed his eyes slightly. "Bandits, yeah, those would do it. You sorta look like one yourself. Not one, are ya?"

Stefano was honestly insulted by the notion, even though in his condition, he shouldn't have been surprised. But it was obvious he overplayed a little bit.

"Not one myself, sir, no."

"Oh, relax, no one cares. Weirdo you are, though. Look like a thug, talk like a lord. Who'd you be, then? Hurry up, we haven't got all day. Or, we do, but I guess this lot can wait 'till mornin'."

The rest of the guard laughed loudly and mockingly.

"Just a mercenary," Stefano tried to keep it simple.

"When people say 'just', always means there's more. But tell ya what, donate a few coins to this glorious city, and we'll forget your pretty face."

Stefano's stomach dropped. He spent the last of his modest pay to buy food from a market of a tiny village to the north. He didn't have a copper left on him, and that… was very bad.

"Sure doesn't look that glorious," he commented before he could stop himself.

"What was that?"

"Got no money on me, sorry."

"What kinda mercenary are you?"

"Obviously not a very successful one. Or maybe a very charitable one…" His chance of getting into the city unnoticed was screwed ten ways to hell, so he decided there was no harm in witty last words.

They weren't impressed. "This one decides to be smart with us, after disrespecting this beautiful city and our lords, the Borgia. I think he needs a lesson…"

"I think you should really stop talking. Nobody wants to hear a voice like that," Stefano sighed, pulling out his blade.

"Hey boys, lookie here! We got ourselves an army man!" one of the quicker men suddenly exclaimed, eyes narrowing to vicious slits of icy blue as he speedily unsheathed his own weapon. _A pity the weapons are so nice and new_, Stephano distantly thought to himself, arching a brow of admiration at how the freshly forged steel glinted in the sunlight. Especially as the guard tossed from one hand to the other, trying to circle him. _I'm sure I could tear them all to pieces with it, assuming they don't fight dirty._

_Yeah, right. Who am I kidding on that one? _He almost started laughing at the absurdity of it; Borgia soldiers fighting fair? As though that was ever going to happen in his lifetime.

Stef took a look at his own sword, and hissed a string of curses. Dammit. The blade was his father's, but the mark on the hilt was one issued to the military swords. A tiny precaution, useful for identification and cases like these.

"Why would a soldier say he's a mercenary? Did ya steal that sword?"

"I say he's a deserter! Get your blades, men, we have ourselves a bounty to collect!"

They connected the dots quickly enough and it really didn't bode well for Stefano. Even if he got past these men, the word would spread anyway, and they'd know he was here. Traitors and deserters were not forgiven, and with good reason. He may as well let them kill him on the spot, the result would be just about the same if he continued to hide.

The traffic of people faltered. Some, thinking quickly, slipped behind the guards' backs into the city, and only then turned around and watched. A fight was brewing, and everyone was in the mood for entertainment. No matter that most of them were half-starved. After all, blood always fed most people's appetites, as little as they wanted to admit it. "_What is wrong with these people?"_ The idea of somebody enjoying violence and death was appalling to somebody who saw his friends get cut down on the battlefield for no real reason other than the side they picked. And yet, here they were.

The guards kept shouting "Traitor!" at him as they charged. Despite the weaponry, it was all sloppy attacks, minimal training, no experience. Stefano parried and stepped back, into the city, and the crowds moved to accommodate his path. He didn't want to kill, though the men were grating his nerves beyond reason. He didn't attack himself, even when they backed him into a wall.

One got a lucky hit on him, slashing open his arm. He ground his teeth, but even as he ignored the pain, things got a whole lot more difficult. A punch to the jaw here, a slice of the dagger along his collar bone there, and he suddenly stumbled, almost hitting the ground before he could recover. There were just too many of them. Another mistake like that, and they'd run him through. Assuming they wanted to end it quick. Likely not…

And then something happened.

The man in white came out of nowhere. He just appeared out of the crowds, as though he had been watching the entire time, somehow invisible. From his position with his back braced against the city wall, Stefano barely parried a soldier's sword thrust. Yet he didn't really care now, for he swore to high heaven he was the only one that saw the ghost coming. It _had _to be unnatural, as none of the crowd reacted in the slightest to his presence. He was a bit taller and heavier than the lot of them, too, and bristling with all sorts of weapons. The brace of throwing knives at his hip was particularly impressive. Especially as he calmly palmed one, his graceful fingers seeming to almost caress it for a split second.

It flew from his hands like lightning.

Without warning, two of the guards dropped to the ground with bleeding throats.

How the hell did he not see that the apparition threw brace knives? And at the same time, no less?

Mind reeling, Stefano quickly realized that it not be quite the day he'd meet St. Peter at the gates. Apparently granted another chance by Providence, he took advantage of the situation as quickly as his surprise allowed him, giving the last remaining man three quick hits, slashing from his shoulder to the opposite hip on the third.

"Thank you," he breathed out to the assassin when it became obvious that the battle was finished, "I was starting to wonder how I was going to get out of that."

"You're a deserter of Cesare's armies, or the French?" The man possessed a low and smooth voice, infinitely assured. Then again, who wouldn't be with a throwing arm like that?

"Cesare's. I was a lieutenant on the battlefield," Stefano shrugged, still catching his breath. It really no longer mattered. "I…resigned. Should have wasted a spare moment on the paperwork, though I was afraid I'd have one less head before I filled in the last signature."

The lips under the hood thinly smiled, the scar on the corner stretching. "So why did you do that?"

"Deserted?" Stefano snorted, thoroughly unashamed as he drew himself up to his full height, "Let's just say I didn't agree with the philosophy."

"Would you agree with ours?"

"Really depends on what it is, assassin."

"And so you know of us?" the hooded man steadily declared. It was casual, though Stephano didn't miss the subtle way in which his hand flew to the dagger sheathed in his sword belt.

The mercenary found himself unconsciously taking a step back, forcing his own voice to remain neutral. "Well, now that you've confirmed all rumors?" Stephano shrugged again, running a hand through his hair to sweep it from his sweaty forehead, "Yeah, I'd say so. And you are-?"

"Ezio Auditore, and we are working for the liberation of Roma."

"And you would trust a traitor?"

"Yes." There was absolutely no hesitation or uncertainty behind that word.

Stefano thought for only a moment, but even a fool would realize that he had nowhere else to turn.

"As I said, I've heard of you, and your reputation. My sword is yours, if you'll have me." Per the tradition of offering his new master his loyalty, Stefano dropped down onto his knee. Ezio smiled again, and offered him his arm. As he grasped it, it felt almost like signing a contract.

"Come along, then. You're not my first recruit of the day, and she's waiting just a few yards away."

"'She'? You're recruiting women, as well?"

"Don't let my wife hear that skepticism," the assassin briefly chuckled, "It's a touchy subject."

That baffled Stefano a bit further, though considering his unique position it would have been more fitting to just take it all in a stride. Not to mention, he honestly didn't expect the word "wife" to be mentioned anywhere in a conversation with a confirmed assassin.

He spared a glance to the dying and dead men on the ground, but didn't feel any regret as he assumed he should have had. Instead, he followed the man in white through the streets, riding out the calming tremors of the crowds.

"Where are you taking me- us?"

"A safe place. You seem like you need it: Cesare isn't forgiving of deserters."

"Yes, that much is obvious by the warm homecoming."

**-Eden-**

"How did my life come to this?" I asked before the door even got a chance to open. When they came inside, I was bent over the thick, but so far mostly blank book, glowering at it as though it was the reason world hunger existed.

"Er-"

"No, don't answer that," I waved my hand in the air, cutting him off, "I know the story. Blah blah blah, we've got no one to spare, yada yada, Claudia has her own show to run now. But why me?"

"Because-"

"Because apparently, I'm the only one that can count beyond a hundred around this place, is that it?"

"Hey, I can count-"

"But you're too busy saving the world to waste your time on accounting. Yeah, I see how it is."

Ezio sighed heavily, giving in. "I will hire an accountant at the bank to go over the records."

I perked up, finally turning my head up.

"Yay! Now, who the hell are you and what are you doing in our super secret hide-out?" I pointed my quill at the two extra people in the room, more jokingly than threatening.

"They are, in a manner of speaking, recruits."

"Recruits." I blinked, "As in…?"

"As in, they are going to live and be trained here."

"Wait, stop right there!" I flailed my arms, "I just got out of the accountant responsibility. Don't tell me I have to be a babysitter again."

"They are a little too old to need babysitting. I have to go find Niccolo, so I will just leave these two with you to get patched up." Ezio seemed eager to leave the room for some reason. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Oh, so you recruit them and bring them here, and now _I _have to find beds and bandages for them? There aren't enough beds here, anyway, I didn't expect anyone incoming."

"Or maybe we don't have enough money to spare for an accountant…"

I threw my hands up in panicking surrender. "Alright! I'll look under the sink!"

"That's a good girl," he smirked before speedily heading back out the door.

"Whatever!" I muttered, briefly glancing down to the desk. The inkpot would've made a rather nice dent in my husband's thick skull. Then again, it wasn't exactly good form to go scaring off new recruits. We needed all hell we could get.

_To hell with that! If they can't take it, they can turn right around and head back home…_

The recently empty inkwell smashed inpt the closed door, and I could hear his laughter outside.

Sighing, I turned around to the 'recruits'. They were watching the exchange with some bewilderment, though there was a small smile on the man's face.

"So," I waved, "What's your story, then?"

"Excuse me?" The man with the soldier's spine was the one that spoke.

"Well, people don't usually join up in this club of suicidal, emotional wrecks unless they are suicidal emotion wrecks themselves. It's quite an exclusive membership, don't you know?" I rolled my eyes. "Like I said, what's the story?"

"I'm not an emotional wreck," he noted.

"Then you're suicidal. You look like a guard, so I wouldn't put it past you."

"Lieutenant, actually."

"That so?" I hummed, "And how'd that happen? That sword is not a standard issued one."

"You sure about that?"

"I know my weaponry, thank you very much," I crossed my arms, leaning back in the chair and throwing my feet up on the desk. "Let me guess. Young and hot-blooded and from a well-off family, you decided to seek glory on the battlefield. Your family was more than eager to let you get your brains straight, and your father even gave you shiny new sword. But after a small reality check and a healthy dose of shell shock, you realized that it really isn't that nice out there. So you made a run for it."

He didn't seem too offended. "That is the main thought of it, yes. You've ran into many deserters before?"

"Sure, I see their corpses often enough. Cesare-"

"-isn't forgiving of traitors, yes, I've realized."

I laughed. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Stefano Esercito. And yours, Maestra?"

I let out a low breath. "I will have an issue with that one. Did Ezio put you up to it?"

"He might have."

"The name's Eden. I like that better. How about you?" I turned to the woman.

A small tremor went through her, and she raised her eyes to me. Warm hazel, I noted, but red from tears and exhaustion. "What?"

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Ghita. No surname," she swallowed, "Not anymore." She spoke humbly, like I'd heard peasants automatically speak in when addressed by nobles. I winced slightly at that.

"I see. Well, Ghita with no surname, do you want to talk about it or do just want to let everything sink in first?"

She opened her mouth. "I- I'm just so tired…"

"Okay, latter it is. Don't be so tense, I'm only trying to help."

"Men burned everything down," she mumbled, lowering her eyes again and biting her lip. "Nothing left now. It all burned."

Small tremors. Those were too familiar to me.

"Shock," I jumped to my feet. Stefano reacted a split second later, turning to the woman, but then froze, unsure what to do. I came up to the girl and put my hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."

The trembling continued.

"Sweetheart, you'll have to look at me. I'm not a psychologist, or even a doctor, but I can help, alright?"

Her eyes snapped up to mine sharply. "How can you help? They're all dead now. All of them, I'm the only one left. You can't fix that."

That was true, but my soft mumbling got a reaction, and that was enough for now.

"Must have been a hell of a trauma," I looked into her eyes. She was focused on me, though, her rage and grief all mixed up into confusion. "Oh, good God," I murmured.

Without really thinking, I drew her to me, holding her in a tight hug. She flailed slightly, from either confusion or anger, but then stilled. Without warning, she started to sob into my shoulder, her hands twisting in my shirt. That chain of reaction was once again familiar to the point of hurt.

Stefano looked unsure and awkward, looking to me for instruction. Not many men could deal with female tears; he didn't know whether to try and say something to this stranger he only met today, or simply walk away and give her some space.

I took pity on him.

"Get washed up, my heart bleeds looking at you. Down the hall, I think it's either the left door or the right that's the washroom," I thought about it for a moment. "I still get a little confused around here, so you'll have to guess. Clean yourself up, come back here and I'll patch you up and figure the rest of this out."

He nodded with visible relief, and walked out the door.

Ghita was still crying, her shoulders shaking and the sobs barely escaping her throat. Maneuvering, I sat us down onto the cot and let her continue, knowing that words would only make things worse at the moment. She needed to get as much of it out as possible, at least for now. There'd of course be more over the next few months, though the sooner she admitted to how overwhelming it was, the better.

"All of them!" she gasped, the sound raw and raspy as she balled her fists into my back,. "They didn't even blink! Just stormed the place- my parents, brothers and sisters- all of them! How could they do it? How could they just- just-" she lifted her head and slammed it back into my collar bone, and I had to bite back a hiss of pain.

"How did you survive?" I asked as softly as possible.

"Late- I was at the markets, just a few minutes late, or I would have burned too. Grabbed Giovanni's sword. Couldn't think, just red…" I pressed my lips tightly together, unsure how to continue. She kept talking, though. "Just got so angry… they didn't expect it… I don't think many people fight back…" She gave a hysterical laugh, "He came."

"Ezio?"

"I thought… I thought he was another guard… but he helped. Hailed some men to put the fire out, such a good man in the middle of all that…_filth._"

"He has that effect," I quietly muttered.

"But _you._ I don't even know you, and I've soaked your shirt- and you let me."

"Well, for assassins, we are a surprisingly decent bunch," I smiled over her head.

"This is a horrible dream," she moaned.

"I really wish it was."

"This can't possibly be real. They can't be dead- they're always there, there is no way they aren't. And you are not real, either-"

"Last time I checked, I was very real," I sighed. "Come on, I'll help you get cleaned up."

"_The great assassin order has become psychotherapy for all things broken, apparently," _I thought with detachment. After a short moment, I realized that that wasn't _my _thought, but Altair's. He was around for so long inside my head that these things bled through without any notice.

_And that includes me. _I replied to him.

"_It includes all of us, one way or another."_

Ten minutes later, I was sitting beside Stefano on the bed of my office, stitching up his arm with a red, wine-soaked string. Ghita was still present, but in much more decent condition. She was watching absently and without seeing. Just lightly rocking herself back in forth from where she stood against the door, deep in thought.

Under the removed grime and dirt, Stefano had short blond hair that went pleasantly with tanned skin, and bright green eyes with a strong jaw and faint stubble. Ghita, on the other hand, had darker complexion and raven black hair. Her face was a bit on the plump side, though at the moment she looked more hollow than anything else.

"Not the first time, I'm guessing?" I asked Stefano, glancing at the older stitching on his shoulder. I've seen men sow before, and it was always rough and uneven, but Stefano had an almost habitual stitch.

"No, not the first," he smiled through his bit lip. "I was holding one of the platoons by Forli. Quite a bit of battle on the way there and on the way back... Not to mention the siege itself..."

"Don't mention that to Caterina, she might react with violence," I advised him quickly.

"Caterina... Sforza? She's here?" he raised his eyebrows. "I had thought-"

"Ezio got her out of the Castello just last morning, actually," I rolled my shoulders. "She's out at the inn right now, eating, which is fortunate."

"That is… good to hear. I can't say I liked Caterina's ruling, but I never wanted her or her family killed. I didn't like the whole affair, truly, but it wasn't my place to question it."

"But you did anyway?"

"That's why I'm here," he smiled again. "I... saw some things that some never even imagine in their lifetime. And it was all for someone's vanity and thirst for power- I suppose I just couldn't do it anymore."

"So you deserted."

"Yes. Took down a few sentries, and then I was on my way."

"Whatever happened to your sense of honor, then?"

My voice wasn't insulting, but genuinely curious, so he took no offense. "There was hardly any honor in that. We weren't defending the citizens, but slaughtering them, trying to take over states simply because our leader wanted them. None of the other men seemed to mind, though."

"Why come to Roma if you deserted? I would think you'd get the hell out of Italia, not come to the hotbed of the Papal States," I asked.

"Well, you see, my family is still here. I was going to take a few things and do just that, though now I see it was an extremely stupid idea. There isn't any mercy for traitors, and word travels fast. Luckily, Ezio found me before I got into too much trouble," he shrugged, taking the clean bandage from my table and sloppily beginning to work it over his arm. I tapped his hand away, and wrapped it properly.

"Huh. I see." The simple explanation threw me off a bit. I almost forgot that there were still uncomplicated matters in the world.

"So what about you? How did you come to be here?"

"Good old me? You could say it was somewhat of an inheritance," my grin was only a little bit forced, but my wall didn't even tremble. "Labeled and trained since you don't want to know when."

"You don't sound too sorry."

"I'm not anymore. I like my life and profession," I tightened the tie on bandage on his arm, finishing off. "Alright, you're done."

"It seems like it's one hell of a story."

"Maybe I'll even tell it to you one day," I patted his shoulder. "And by the way, if you still need anything from your family home, I guess I can get it for you."

"Are you planning on politely knocking on the door and trying to explain this to my parents, or are you a thief, too?"

I laughed. "How about we simplify my classification, okay? I'm a _survivor_."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that's for me to know and for you to shut your cakehole and trust me."

Stefano didn't seem very satisfied with that answer. "I'm not going to unquestioningly follow orders this time around, you know."

"Good, you wouldn't be here if that weren't the case. But a little bit of trust would be nice, if we're to pull this off."

"I don't think there is anything I want from that house- it all seemed so important three hours ago, but now it's all..." He trailed off, pausing for a long moment. "I'd like to get a letter to them, though, if you would be so kind."

"Not a problem. I don't want either you or Ghita thinking you're cut off from something just because you are part of this circus now. I'll give you the speech about trust and old ties later, when you don't look like you're about to kneel over from exhaustion."

"It's still somewhat hard to wrap my head around this," he admitted. "Assassins."

"Yeah," I drew out. "Assassins. Just to get the little bit out of the way so there's no misunderstandings later- it's not all fun and assassinating world leaders. There are a few rules."

"Huh."

"I just figure, if you're going to be a part of this, you might as well know all the cards. So, first, no killing innocent people. Clarification on that for further reference: Innocents include everyone who isn't threatening you with a sharp or blunt objects. And if its common thugs that don't like you cheating at dice, try not to kill them. We're not common murderers or serial killers, whatever the public impression is."

"That already makes you better than any of the city guards put together," Ghita suddenly said.

"That we can agree on," I resolutely nodded. "Basically, just keep in mind that while we can, that don't mean we should. _Capito?_"

They both nodded.

"Also, another little detail. How are either of you on the law?"

Ghita's jaw clenched. Stefano gave a general shrug. "I'm wanted. Too late to be thinking _those _priorities over."

"Well, I have good news for you then," I grinned. "From now on, you don't have to give a rat's ass for it. Everything is permitted."

_"Eden, you're going to give them the wrong impression," _Altair muttered disapprovingly. _"It is an easy trap to fall into."_

"Alright, alright. Let me put it this way, then. The law says a lot of stuff. That we can't steal, kill, cause chaos or disrespect the city guard and the government. With me so far? And all other laws too- civility, morality, religion, you name it. But the thing is, it's either corrupt, or it holds us back, or it's a way of controlling the general public. So disregard all that they say, and do what you think is right."

"But we have to listen to you, right? Follow your orders and such."

"That's the complicated bit," I jerked my shoulder. "A few centuries ago, the recruits were practically brainwashed to obey only the authority of the Order. It's a bit less stern now, but yes, generally, listen to us, at least until you're all grown up. I guess… you'll just have to take it on faith."

"_It wasn't quite so severe."_

_You were raised with swords, separated from your parents, and forced to obey._

"_I suppose there was some corruption because of my Master… I'm sorry, it is a difficult thing to come to terms with."_

"Is it just the two of you?"

I gave a startled chuckle as the question sounded in real life, "No, no. There's a few more people. We generally try to hold as much of the underground as possible, makes our job a helluva lot easier. Just in this hideout there's my lovely adopted daughter and one very pessimistic politician."

"Daughter?"

"Unofficially," I shrugged. "But the term applies, I think. Don't let it fool you, though, she's been with us for a long time, learned all of the best. Or the worst, depending how you look at it. She's out patrolling right now, on the roofs, you might have seen her eagle when you came in. Kind of hard to miss, he likes to swoop down over the bridge."

"We came through the underground tunnels, so I'm afraid we missed it."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to see it. I warn you right now, you don't want to try anything funny with the bird, it has a fondness for fingers. And don't try anything with her, either."

"Or you'll do unspeakable things to me?" he suggested.

"Nah, try if you'd like, it's her business," I smiled. "Simple warning, that's all. She's not fond of strangers. And she's been a bit on the off side lately."

"Noted. And this politician?"

I chewed on my lip, searching for some sort of classification. "I have no idea how he'd react to this. Ezio might have already spoken to him, though. He usually keeps to himself, so just don't badger him too much and we will all get along."

"So you and Ezio, you're married."

"That's right."

"So no taboos or anything, about relationships."

"Why, do you have a bride somewhere?" I asked lightly.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "The way my parents would have it, I should have been married long ago and bringing little heirs into their lives. I disappointed them by choosing the military instead."

"We'd be hypocrites if we said anything against it, really. Huh, I just realized, I'm making the rules now. There's a funny thought." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"Is Ezio the highest ranking member?" Ghita suddenly asked me.

"Lots of questions today, though I don't blame you. Ezio is- yes, I suppose he's the 'Grandmaster' now. Though there is still the Council, which we're not a part of, but that's mostly because they almost never meet now. There are countless underground bases all over the Known World, everyone working within their own reach."

"One more question then," Stefano nodded, "Why are you telling us all this? I mean, you hardly know us, we could have been spies for the Borgia, and you're laying everything out up front."

"I have my eyes on you." I tapped my temple with a mysterious grin, "And Ezio's eyes are better than mine. If he brought you in, I trust you."

"So what's your rank, then?"

"_My_ rank?"

Now there was another funny thought. I knew I was far higher than a simple pawn, as Niccolo commented once that we didn't have pawns, unlike the other side. So what did that make me?

Altair gave a phantom shrug. We didn't follow a rank system like they did, he had no idea where I stood now.

"Let's just put it this way. I don't like or need 'political' power within this Order, but I _can_ put you on the ground in two seconds max. And considering Ezio is my husband and partner, we try not to think too hard on who is superior. That never adds up to a happy marriage."

"So what you are saying is that there are no ranks."

"Basically. Well, not really. This isn't the military, it's one big happy family- oh, wait a moment. Dammit, I'm getting confused," I rubbed my head. "Look, you got questions on that, take 'em up with Niccolo. He's the one with the rules, I'm the one with the bandages and cool cloaks."

"Oh, we get cool cloaks, too? This is the best decision of my life!" Stefano made over exaggerated show of excitement.

"_Now _you're getting it!"

Ghita abruptly stood up, and walked out the door, slamming it on the way out. We stared after her, and then Stef gave out a small, embarrassed cough. I just rolled my shoulders, unapologizing.

"Better loud anger than quiet grief," I thought out loud.

"Should I-?"

"Because grief slowly eats away at you, while anger is easier and faster to vent," I finished. "Let her calm down a little bit, maybe hit something, she'll feel better for it."

"Not really my place to pry, but you seem like you're speaking from experience."

"We all have our sob stories." I grimaced. I didn't like to talk about it, especially now, when it was just scratching at scars. "Besides, I'm not her mother, sister or even friend yet. We are about the last people she wants to hear from right now."

"She has a sword," he waved at the door.

I thought on that for a moment. "Ah, hell."

Things turned out much better than that. Ghita didn't storm off to stab a couch. Actually she calmed down rather quickly, and came back to apologize with a tight face, but a sincere voice. She was just a girl who wasn't equipped to deal with the storm of emotion that was going through her head, but she was quick enough to gather her wits.

There were no extra beds in the hideout, so instead, I walked them to the inn. After a short discussion with the barkeep about how quiet the island was and just who to thank for that, things were settled and kids were sent off to beds.

"You know," Ezio's voice sounded above my ear, and I instinctively pressed my back into his chest. The window of the inn I was staring through was beginning to get boring, and my thumb was already raw from my thoughtful chewing. "After ten years of living with you, and I keep thinking that one day I'll be able to read your mind."

"How's that going for you?"

I could feel the comforting rumble of his laughter in his chest, my back still to him. "Not very well. So tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that green is a horrible fashion trend this summer. Those women blend in with the grass, it's kind of disturbing. Then again, the idea does have some potential on the camouflage front…"

"I _can, _however, tell when you're lying," he laughed into my hair.

I didn't respond for a moment, and then shrugged. "This is a stupid idea. Niccolo said we have no pawns in this Brotherhood, yet it seems like you're recruiting some."

"You and Niccola agreeing on something?" his voice steadied, "I am stunned, Eden. Pehaps the apocalypse is coming after all-"

"I'm _serious_, Ezio-"

"They won't be pawns," he quickly said, a sure hand dropping to my shoulder. They were admittedly stiff with doubt, so he dropped his other hand on my other one, beginning to rub away the tension. "We will train them carefully and use them wisely."

"If it was anyone else, I wouldn't believe one word," I sighed. Shifting and slumping forward, I granted him better access as his hands traveled downward a bit.

"I'll take that as a yes," he replied. "I recruited them because our numbers are too few, but we still can't simply fling them left and right."

"Good to hear," I grinned in spite of myself. "You know, for a moment, I actually wondered if you were getting me a puppy to take care of. I didn't exactly expect another batch of strays to join this family."

"This isn't about you."

"Yes, it's about… what is it all about, actually?" I craned my neck around, catching his gaze, "I'm starting to wonder."

There was a slightly shocked silence, his hands at my back freezing. "What do you mean?"

"Templars, Cesare, French armies, recruits… we're retired. We shouldn't even be here. It just seems… " _pointless, doomed, why-are-we-even-bothering-anymore-let-someone-else-save-the-world-for-a-change, "_Endless."

"And you used to be so eager to charge headfirst into battle."

"I still am. But how many times are we going to cut the vines without ever getting out the root?"

He hummed in my ear, "Tell you what, when this is all over, we'll leave and go anywhere you'd like."

I smiled, closing my eyes. "We can't leave a forwarding address, either, or you know someone will - god forbid- try to get us to save the world again."

"How does Sicily sound? Or maybe we can take a boat from and go southeast until we reach Alexandria."

"I don't think I'd like the sea," I chuckled, "Or the sand. I hear it gets everywhere, especially to places its not supposed to be."

I sighed turning in his arms and hugging him around the middle, with my head on his shoulder. "It's a nice sentiment, but I don't think we're going anywhere any time soon."

"Mm." The sound was purely neutral. "Forgive me, _bella_."

"For what?"

"These two will be in your care for the next little while, at least until we're sure they can pull their own weight."

_That _took a moment to sink in.

"What does that imply, exactly?" I asked carefully.

"Relax. I simply want you to make sure that they have beds, food, clothing, equipment."

"The inn will provide the first two, but I'll have to take the kids shopping tomorrow for the rest. We'll have to get Adel on raiding for weapons, though, we simply don't have the money to keep something like this above water."

"Adel hates burglary."

"And I hate shopping. My point being, tough."

"So you'll do it?"

"Of course I will!" I smacked him lightly on the head, "Can't exactly say no to wayward orphans, now, can I?"

"Speaking of which, what are your impressions?"

"Stef is holding onto some sort of transparent moral code and Ghita is only a girl who had nowhere else to go when you picked her up. She might not stay. And even if she does, I have no idea how this will play out."

"She could be like you."

"Or she could be worse. Or better. We don't know, not while she's in her current state."

"In any case, get them settled."

"I'm in charge now," I muttered absently. "How the hell did that happen? It used to be 'Here's a target, now be a good girl and kill him.' Now I'll be the one giving those orders, and that's just weird."

"Think you can handle it?"

"Oh, _caro, _I've lived the last ten years tied to you while raising our darling Adelaide. Do you honestly think there is something left in this world that I _can't_ handle?"

* * *

_Shopping..dang it to hell!_

Well, I suppose I asked for it.

As soon as I set my foot out the hideout, I realized that I was completely lost without even the tiniest sense of where to go first.

"Is something wrong?" Stefano asked me, coming out from the inn door and quickly stuffing a few florins into his pockets. I caught the shouting of a noisy dice game just before he closed it. Then again, I didn't expect him to do much of anything of any importance. Not with his litany of bruises and that injured arm.

"No, everything is just peachy," I waved him off, still in thought, "Except it seems that I need to enlist a bit of help…give me a moment." I didn't miss that he and Ghita exchanged looks, she now scampering through the door as well.

Moving away from the two recruits, I folded my hands around my mouth and let out a loud, irritating bird call. Sokolo lazily replied to my sad attempts, and spiraled downwards to the roofs somewhere.

A few minutes later, Adel gracefully landed onto the street beside me.

"You called?"

"Yes I did. Do you know where the markets are?"

"You hate shopping," she noted with confusion, her gaze darting to the two recruits behind. However, her expression remained placid. I assume she'd ask me about them later, back in the hideout.

"Well, don't have a choice here. Speaking of which, we have recruits."

"We have _what?_" Now the confusion was extremely clear on her face, her frown disbelieving.

"Ezio's idea. You will- well, you probably won't like them."

"So you want me to go shopping with them?" her voice was cool, her pale cheeks reddening slightly with anger.

"No. I want you to tell me where there's a tailor open in this city, and then you can go right back to your workaholic habits."

"I'm coming with you," she suddenly cut me off, shooting a glance over my shoulder to the other two again..

"Erm, you don't look too happy about that, so why?"

"I don't like or trust them," she looked down her nose at me as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I want to keep an eye on them." Well, points to her for honesty. I wanted to make a remark on my own ability to keep an eye on a soldier and a farm girl, but then I quickly decided that a break would be good for her.

"Alright, then…Stef, Ghita," I called over to them, gesturing them to follow, "This is my darling dearest Adelaide. Adel, this is Stefano and Ghita, we'll be training them from now on." Adel looked ready to scowl, but I bumped her with my elbow. "Let's all play nice, _si?_ At least in public. Teamwork and all that jazz."

Adel gave me a pointed glare, but then composed her face into a neutral expression. Ghita barely nodded in acknowledgement, only a tiny hint of interest in her tired eyes. I briefly wondered if she got any sleep at all that night. Hardly- she looked even worse for wear than she did the day , on the other hand, seemed more that enthusiastic about meeting her, despite her silent attitude. That was a regular occurrence with the male population, though they usually became discouraged a few minutes later.

Ghita suddenly touched my arm, and I turned towards her. "I was just thinking," she quietly started, " I still don't know what's going to happen to us with you?"

"Didn't I go over that?" I scratched the back of my head, "Shopping. Clean clothing, equipment, all that."

"I mean, more long-term," she bit her lip, quickly breaking any contact she had with my arm and taking a step back, "What's going to happen? I don't know what to expect any more."

"Would you like me to read your palm while I get out my crystal ball?" I gave a slightly surprised chuckle. She didn't look amused, still staring at me expectantly. I sighed, and waved to them, beginning to walk. "I don't know."

"But you must know. You brought us here, you are taking care of us. It has to be for something." By "you" I assumed she just meant the Order in general, because I personally had nothing to do with her presence in the hideout.

"Sure, it was the goodness of Ezio's heart along with our desperate need of people," I honestly replied. "But as for what he plans, I honestly have no idea. I'm just trying to make you look more battle-worthy."

"That might take a bit more effort," Adel muttered under her breath. Despite the mean edge to the comment, she had a point. Stef looked a bit too much like a drunk with a sword, and Ghita looked exactly what she was before- a peasant girl of eighteen.

"Please, at least give me something," Ghita pleaded, and I suddenly understood.

Besides her grief, she was confused. Her life changed, she was in unfamiliar waters, with no idea how to swim and no straws in sight. She needed some sort of certainty, anything that would clear up the fog a little bit. Something she could focus on.

"For one thing, I'm going to kill Stef," I decided.

"I might have a few words to say about that," the soldier tensed slightly.

"I have a bounty hunter in mind that wouldn't object to turning in the good news of your demise. All we need is a head with pretty blond hair, tragically ruined beyond recognition, and your name will be wiped from all records on the account of treachery."

It took him a few moments to realize what I was talking about. "You mean you'll sweep my history clean."

"Yep. It's enough that Ezio and I see our portraits on every corner, we don't want anyone coming after you. Or whatever family you have left, though I suspect their standing and feverish claims of an unruly and rebellious child will protect them well enough." I paused. "That is why you didn't want to go home, right?"

"Not- well, yes," he nodded, but it looked as though he was agreeing just to prevent further questioning on the subject.

"And as for you, my dear," I looked back to Ghita. "You're going to be assumed dead by anyone who knew you."

"No one will miss me," she nodded slightly, looking sad. "I'm just a middle daughter of a commoner. They will think I burned with my family."

Adel turned her head sharply, but then remembered herself and relaxed. She didn't like the subject of burning, or even the mention of fire, always working hard to not let it show.

"The markets are that way," she gestured to the right, onto the branching streets where the crowds were thickening.

"I think we need heavier artillery for this mission," I snorted, "We're heading to the Rosa."


	9. The End

I wonder how many of you got excited when you saw this notification in your email. I am sorry, I usually hate it when authors do notes like that too, but I think this is a better way to close things off.

Well, this is it. This is me saying fare thee well, this story will not be updated in the future. I know a lot of people wanted to continue reading the story, but I am not going to continue writing it. I know, I know, we're all very crushed of the fact.

So, reasons, right? Well, one: university is a lot of work, which I'm not very happy about, but who would be.

Two: AC III is coming out in a month. Enough said there.

Three: I'm just done. I've spent years on this story, and my mind just doesn't stay in the same place for too long. The fact that I have stayed dedicated to it for so long is kind of amazing all by itself. And I've even finished this project, too- Irony of Eden has a nice little 'complete' score in the description. And to be honest, I no longer have any idea as to what I'm doing with this story, which is the reason for such a long delay, and why I am ending it now.

But do not despair! You can still stalk my deviantArt and Tumblr accounts, if you'd like. While I haven't been doing much writing, I am still regularly drawing and updating those accounts. You can always find me by my username, which is unique to me.

With that out of the way, I'd like to publicly thank my beta, sphinx81, who has transformed this story very early on, and stuck with it to completion and the attempt at a sequel. Many hugs and chocolates to you, darling, there are not a lot of people who could continue investing time in someone else's story for so long.

Of course, thanks go to all of you that have been reading and leaving reviews, whether you're a veteran or newcomer reader, or the silent user that stalked the story alert. All of your support has never failed to put a smile on my face, and boy did I need it sometimes.

Which brings us to one last small notice:

I would like to repeat my dedication to Laurie Moore, who died two years ago while I was still writing the last part of IoE. She left a painful absence in my life that I still haven't filled, and won't be able to for a long time. It's hard to believe that it has been two whole years- it feels a lot shorter and a lot longer at the same time.

Well, this is it... Feels like I should apologize, but I'm not going to. We've had a good ride.


End file.
